Varied Awakenings
by Waywatcher
Summary: A collection of miscellaneous ideas and requests for Fire Emblem Awakening with no particular theme. You'll find a bunch of stuff here; basically whatever comes to our collective minds. Feel free to use anything you see here directly, or just as inspiration.
1. Lissa & Robin Arranged Marriage

**Disclaimer** **:** **I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **This collection is a mish-mash of ideas with no real** _ **theme**_ **. It's very much just an offshoot of** _ **The Robin Variable**_ **to write the ideas that don't fit there. Feel free to suggest or request, but there is** _ **never**_ **a guarantee. As with** _ **The Robin Variable**_ **, feel free to take these ideas and run with them on your own, just give credit to myself and whoever came up with the idea (as I anticipate some of these, if not most, will be the ideas of other people).**

 **Purely self-indulgent first chapter here.** _ **The Robin Variable**_ **has a self-imposed limit of one chapter per idea, so I'm doing the second here. We'll move on to things like the Pokemon crossover (sorta, more like pokemon just happen to exist in the world of Fire Emblem) within a few chapters.**

* * *

Lissa is nervous. There's no way around it. She accepted this: getting married to some Plegian man she doesn't know, but that doesn't mean she feels particularly happy about it. She's doing this for peace, she's doing this so Emm doesn't have to, she's doing this for Ylisse, but she's _not_ doing this for herself. This could cost the girl her future, her whole lifestyle! Plegia's laws aren't nearly as progressive as Ylisse's and that weighs heavily on her mind.

She doesn't know if she needed to dress up so much. There's a distinct chance her husband is taking this much less seriously than her. As per custom, Lissa is the one walking down the aisle. It's only just then, when the doors open and she starts walking, that she sees her husband for the first time.

He's a very thin man with sharp facial features. His black hair has a shock of white on one side, and is slicked back, flat on the top, and comes to a point behind his head. The man has a surprisingly deep widow's peak for someone so young. His eyes are dark brown, and latch on to Lissa's bluish-green one's as soon as she looks at his face.

He reminds Lissa of a snake. He's thin, sleek, and (at least Lissa assumes so) dangerous.

She has on the traditional white-blue Ylissian wedding gown with only minor modifications while he wears a gothic suit with a high collar in black and dark purple. They clash _horribly_ , not just due to the different colours but due to style dissonance.

Lissa moves to stand across from him under the altar. He's still staring at her with a totally flat expression, and the princess fidgets under his scrutiny as the priest begins speaking.

The blonde girl pays little attention as the priest talks. Her eyes flick from her husband to her siblings in the audience, who smile reassuringly (if nervously) at her from the front row.

"I understand the bride and groom have written their own vows, if the groom would speak first…" The priest intones, glancing over at the man.

Lissa's husband takes a breath. To her surprise, it sounds shaky. When he speaks though, his voice is clear and firm, and he stares her straight in the eye. "I, Robin Vastatio, take you Lissandra Lowell, to be my lawfully wedded wife and equal. Let those gathered here bear witness to my promise: to always respect your boundaries, be considerate of your wishes and desires, and to never lay a hand on you that is unwanted."

The vow is not exactly romantic, but it's for that reason Lissa suddenly feels a lot less nervous. He specifically included that they were to equals, which the princess knows is usually _not_ the case in Plegia. Unlike Ylisse Plegia does not have gender equality laws, so Robin's promise of equality and respect is a massive reassurance.

"The bride…?" The Priest prompts, and Lissa realizes she's been standing in silence after Robin's vow.

"Ah, yes!" She squeaks, and composes herself quickly. She practiced this. Someone off to the side chuckles, a quiet 'nyahaha!' followed by someone silencing them with a 'shush!'. Lissa clears her throat and speaks. "Robin Vastatio, I accept you as my husband. I promise to be fair to you, and work through what disagreements may arise between us, stay with you through sickness and health, and through whatever hardship may come our way… and cherish you as if I had chosen you myself."

That last line wasn't part of the script. Lissa added that just now after hearing his vows, she hadn't expected her husband to seem so _reasonable_ , even if he did cut a bit of an imposing figure with his sharp features.

The rest of the priest's ramblings go by in a rush for Lissa. She says 'I do' when prompted, and nods her head at the appropriate times, but is otherwise just waiting for this to be over. The priest doesn't end the ceremony with 'you may kiss the bride' as Ylissian custom would usually dictate though, instead he opts for the much more degrading Plegian version (as he is Plegian himself) and says: "you may claim your bride."

Robin's mouth twitches at the priest's words, and Lissa swears she sees disapproval on his face for that brief moment. He leans in anyways, but pauses a few inches away from actually kissing her. The man stares at her silently for a moment, and Lissa realizes (happily) that he's waiting for permission to touch her. Apparently he was serious when he said he wouldn't lay a hand on her that was unwanted.

The princess nods permission and tilts her head up. The kiss is chaste and quick, purely for show. The audience claps politely, and the priest bows out so the reception can begin.

###

Lissa doesn't get a chance to talk with her siblings during the reception, not in private at least. As newlyweds they're expected to stay together for the rest of the day. Still, Emmeryn and Chrom come up to talk with the princess and her new husband.

Chrom isn't very subtle about warning the man about harming his sister, but it's half-hearted. Clearly the prince understood Robin's wedding vow, and Lissa bets her brother respects the man too much to seriously threaten him.

Emmeryn is polite as always. In many ways she and Robin are similar, being very calm and cordial. The difference is that Emmeryn _emotes_ and shows some hint of emotion. Robin has a flat expression the entire time, and now that she thinks of it Lissa has only seen him show emotion that one moment he showed disapproval towards the priest. Is he really that unphased by all this?

The afternoon wears on slowly, seeming to much longer than it actually does. Food is served eventually, and Lissa is pleasantly surprised to discover Plegian cuisine is quite good, albeit more spicy on average than Ylissian foods.

Then comes sunset. The priest steps back in to announce the reception is over, heads the procession back to a small bedroom, gives a final prayer before closing the door behind the two.

Both of them know what's expected of them. Lissa is incredibly nervous as she sheds her dress, yet she's also a bit excited. She never mentioned it to anyone, not even Emmeryn or Maribelle, but the princess was always secretly excited for her wedding night. Yes, Lissa would have obviously preferred to _choose_ her husband, but that doesn't mean she isn't a _bit_ eager for the consummation.

Robin still wears his blank expression, but Lissa does notice his hands trembling a bit as he unbuttons his suit. He also speaks, breaking their silence. "I was serious when I said I would not touch you without permission your Highness. This is not something I will force you into."

"No, no, I'm good." Lissa says quickly, trying not to seem too excited. She doesn't want to off-put him because the princess knows it's considered unladylike to be interested in sex. "We can do this, we're expected to anyways right? Can't put it off forever!"

"Right." Robin says blankly. His brown eyes flick between her and the bed, and she can see his hands clasp together so tightly his fingers start to turn white. "Right… okay." He repeats, his voice a bit shaky. "S-So…"

Lissa blinks quickly. His expression is flat, but his body language clearly shows nervousness. Robin seems even _more_ nervous than her, which is not something she expected. "Hey, uh… have you never done this before either?" The princess asks tentatively.

Robin swallows thickly. It's strange to Lissa to see someone who was so composed before look so panicked now. His sharp features don't look so threatening at the moment. "No."

"Oh, so we're in the same boat then!" She chirps, trying to put him at ease. Lissa walks over to the bed and sits down. "Come on!" She pats the sheets beside her, and her husband takes his own seat. He's sure to put a little distance between them, again trying to respect her space, but Lissa rolls her eyes and shifts over so that they're properly side-by-side. "Can't be squeamish now, right?"

"Okay…" He says. Robin takes a deep breath, steeling himself. His serious, blank expression returns. "Alright, let's- oh, wait." The man bends down to rifle through his cloak. He pulls out a black herb, slightly crumpled but clean, and hands it to her. "Here. This stops… _unwanted extras_ from dropping into our lives. Unwanted for now at least."

"You can just say it stops pregnancy. I know how sex works Robin." Lissa says, accepting and eating the herb. It's bitter, _very_ bitter, and has a texture like lettuce. She's quite thankful Robin remembered this, because she did _not_ come prepared and she is _not_ ready to be a mother.

The man coughs, embarrassed. "My apologies. Shall we begin then…?"

As expected their first time is awkward. Lissa is bumbling and clumsy, and Robin is stiff and overly-careful. Despite what pretty much every book ever warned her about, Lissa doesn't find her first time painful. Lissa insisting on foreplay and generally being relaxed by the time it comes for the act means that, while a tad uncomfortable at first, sex is not painful.

All things considered though, the act is over quickly. It takes less than fifteen minutes total, and Lissa doesn't ask for another round after Robin spends himself. Despite all her attempts to put him at ease the man is still tense as they settle down to sleep. He politely bids her goodnight, again making sure not to touch her, and rolls away from her under the covers.

Lissa stares at him for a minute, debating mentally if she should just leave him be, and then decides that this sort of distance and reluctance to physical contact can't be allowed to fester. She doesn't want this to be something that happens a lot, especially since it seems they might actually get along, so rather than keep her distance Lissa scoots up to him and rests her forehead on his back. Robin tenses again, waiting to see what she does, but Lissa doesn't move further.

It takes a while for her husband to relax, and Lissa falls asleep before he does. It's not her bed, it's not her country, but the princess is calm. This day went far better than she was expecting, she would dare say she's _content_ , and it certainly makes sleep a lot easier to reach.

###

Lissa wants to do something useful. She has a lot of freedom already thanks to Henry being assigned as her guard. As a lone woman she would be denied permission to many things, but the dark mage's company negates that for the most part. She's gone to see plays, wander the city, shop, and quite a few other things.

However, she knows she's not being helpful. Plegia and Ylisse still have tension between them, and as a royal it is her duty to help their countries heal. Robin works hard not only as head tactician, but also as a religious leader (albeit a reluctant one) to keep the fanatic cult of the Grimleal under control. On top of all that he occasionally goes on missions to handle dangerous Risen groups or bandits with a small group of elite soldiers not unlike the Shepherds.

Lissa also doesn't like that she doesn't get to see Robin all that much. They're married now, and not unhappily, but he spends a massive amount of time overwhelmed by work. Despite what he's done to try and keep her status equal with his, the simple fact is that she can't help him with most of work due to the simple fact that she's female. Robin is indifferent, but the rest of Plegia is not so progressive. There's also the small problem of Lissa not being so good with laws and official stuff.

There is one thing she can do just fine though, and today she's determined to put it to use. When they wake on the morning Robin is due to go out on a mission, Lissa stops her husband before he leaves the bed.

"I want to help today." She says without preamble.

"Pardon?"

"You're going to fight some bandits today, right?" Lissa says. "I've been in combat before, I'm a healer."

"You want to come with us." Robin says flatly. Lissa knows better to put stock in his facial expressions though, her husband is very bad at emoting.

"Yep. I used to be part of my brother's military squad when I lived in Ylisse. I know my way around a staff." She brags lightly. "Besides, I'm tired of not doing anything useful around here."

Robin stares at her for a few seconds with slightly furrowed brows, blinking slowly. Lissa recognizes this as his 'thinking face'. "Are you used to hard travel?"

Lissa makes a face, but nods. "Yeah. I'm not _great_ with it, but I can manage for a short while."

He looks her over long and hard. The man nods curtly, and turns away to prepare for the day. "We leave in two hours. Pack light, the desert is hot and you don't need extra weight making travel even more difficult."

"What about a tent and all that stuff…?" Lissa asks. "Where can I get those?"

"I'll organize the essentials. Just grab your extras and toiletries." He grunts, slipping on his coat.

Lissa spends the morning scrambling about to decide what she needs. Packing light means she can't afford more than a single change of clothes, so she fills her small bag with a few toiletries (toothbrush, mouthwash, soap) a travel makeup kit (about the size of a travel chess set) and fills the last little space with some sweets and a small book. She's just picking up her mend staff when Robin calls to her, saying it's time to leave.

Thankfully the small group will travel on camel, so Lissa doesn't have to carry her bedroll and tent on her back. There's only six of them: Robin, herself, two dark mages called Henry and Tharja, a spy called Gaius, and an older mercenary named Gregor.

The group, minus Tharja, are accepting of their new addition. Tharja ignores her while Gregor and Henry give cheery introductions, and Gaius offers a cheeky salute and a wink. They all mount up their camels and ride out of the city. It will take a few days of constant travel to reach where they need to be, and Lissa settles in for an unpleasant ride.

###

"Lissa, get to Gregor!" Robin hollers. He backpedals frantically from the two mercenaries he's fighting, and quickly downs a concoction when he has enough distance. Lissa nods, despite knowing that the man can't see her, and makes a dash for the older man.

This fight is going far worse than Robin planned. He expected an ambush for sure, but he didn't expect them to be hiding _in the town itself_. He doesn't even _know_ how Gaius is doing, the man broke off when they entered the village to arrange lodgings for the six of them and Robin can only hope he's safe.

The mercenaries close in again, and Robin settles into a defensive stance. These two are deceptively skilled and well-equipped, perhaps former soldiers who turned to a life of crime, and they're proving a hassle to deal with on his own. They make good use of flanking, forcing the tactician to be constantly on the defensive or risk a sword in his back.

"Henry! I could use a bit of help!" He shouts, raising his levin sword to block an overhead strike. He then whirls around, pulling a parrying dagger from his belt to block a low swing from his other foe.

"Nyaha! Just a moment boss!" The mage calls. There's a sickening crunching noise from somewhere behind Robin, and he can hear Henry cackle loudly. "Alright, it's time you two made like a frog and croak!"

"I think that's your worst pun yet Henry." Robin grunts, kicking one of the mercenaries in the stomach and dancing back a few steps. Dark magic coils around the poor brigand, crushing his spine (and ribs, and collarbone, and legs, and arms) in brutally swift fashion. Henry's magic never ceases to send a chill down the tactician's spine, even if it's technically no more dangerous than any of the elemental magics. The tactician launches a few bolts of lighting at the remaining mercenary, and defeats him quickly now that he doesn't have to worry about about watching his back. "Tharja, you fine?"

"Managing!" The girl snarls back. She's standing on a rooftop slinging elfire at a few archers hiding behind a wall. "These rats won't come out of hiding!"

"I got it!" Henry laughs. He cups his hands and shouts to the sky "hey Fog! Mind helping our _caws_?"

The sound of many wings fills the air, and a murder of crows descends on the archers' location. The men scream in pain as the animals peck at their flesh, and run out from cover to escape the animals. As soon as they're in the open Tharja roasts them alive with a well-aimed fireball.

"Oye! Why bird boy no help Gregor? He not worth time?" The older mercenary asks, striding over with Lissa in tow. He has a new scar on his shoulder that is still raw and red, only recently healed by the healer behind him. "Not welcome we were hoping for, yes?"

"Definitely not. We need to find Gaius." Robin says, sheathing his dagger. "Come on."

###

"Lissa darling, it's glorious to see you again!"

"Hey Maribelle, how's it going?" The princess laughs, hugging the other lady warmly.

They're standing at the entrance of the main hall in the Ylisse royal palace. Nobles from all over the continent are in attendance and crowd the room despite its massive size. Lissa feels good to be home again, if only for a few days.

"We have so much to talk about!" Lissa giggles. "You have to tell me what everyone's been up to!"

"Of course darling, and you _must_ tell me about how your life has been in Plegia." The lady insists, pulling her into the crowd. "But first you should go see your siblings. They'll be overjoyed to know you've arrived."

Robin watches blankly as his wife is lead away by her friend. He doesn't show it, but he feels monstrously out of place in the Ylissian palace. Despite this gathering being open to all, he is one of very few Plegians to come here. Gangrel and Validar are the only Plegian nobles besides himself that bothered to travel here, but Gangrel is busy and Robin simply does not like his father.

At least he has Tharja for company. While Henry is social, Tharja is decidedly _not_. She's more than content to just sit at a corner table and people-watch with Robin. That's what they do for a good hour before someone approaches them.

That 'someone' is Maribelle. She struts over and takes a seat at the table without asking for permission. "I hope you're not as distant with my dear Lissa as you are everyone else. You haven't left this table since you got here."

"I am not familiar with the others here, and I have no inclination to be." Robin says flatly.

"Then why did you bother coming at all?" Maribelle asks curtly, ignoring the glare Tharja is now giving her. "With all due respect, you could have just let my treasure come on her own."

The tactician stares at her for a moment, and then says quietly. "Because I do not have time for her normally. My work demands all of my attention, and it is only through such events that I am absolved of my usual duties for a short time."

"Ah." Maribelle's expression is a frown, somewhat disapproving. "You do not have time for her?"

"I have a country to run." Robin explains, letting his indifferent look drop for a moment and letting Maribelle see just how tired he is. "There are trade routes to manage, fanatics to keep in line, bandits and Risen to defeat…" His shoulders sag. "I was _not_ ready to have a wife, much less one I actually care for."

"It would be easier if you didn't care about her?" Maribelle asks sharply.

"Yes." The tactician admits bluntly. "If that were the case I would not have to worry about leaving her all the time, or worry about being a good husband at all."

"But you do?"

"Yes." Robin responds. "She was neither indignant nor resentful, and she actually _cares_ about the fact that we're married. I wasn't prepared for this marriage actually going _well_."

"You clearly thought just as highly of the situation as Prince Chrom did." Maribelle sighs. "Well, I appreciate you being forthright at the very least, even if your reason for coming is flawed."

Robin isn't sure if he should feel offended or not. Regardless, he knows the blonde lady has a point. It's rude of him to presume his wife would waste valuable time with her family and friends to converse with him when she technically sees him every day. He feels like complaining that it's not his fault, he can't abandon Plegia just to spend time with his wife, but he doubts Maribelle will have any sympathy.

"Of course, I can't fault you too much." The lady hums. "I don't know your situation, and it would seem you have about as much free time as the Exalt herself… which is of course to say very little."

"How does she manage it then?"

"Our dear Exalt spends every free moment with family." Maribelle says. "She has few hobbies because of it, but she knows her priorities very well."

Robin isn't sure how to feel about that. Family commitments should force someone already busy to lose what little free time they'd otherwise have? That doesn't seem quite right… but perhaps that is just the curse of hard work. In a literal sense it pays, in a figurative sense it doesn't. "I see… thank you."

"Of course. Now if you'll pardon me, I must be going back. Do consider socializing by the way, and if you're looking for those with few racist tendencies, I'd suggest _that_ group." She motions towards a strange amalgamation of people including a grim feroxi man, a gorgeous redheaded lady, and a buff blond man who has the top buttons of his outfit undone. They're only three of the dozen odd individuals chattering around in the corner. "They're called the Shepherds. You'll find them good company."

That name rings a bell with Robin, he remembers Lissa mentioning them. He watches Maribelle strut off back to the main table, and then turns to Tharja.

"Before you ask, no. You can go by yourself." She grunts, crossing her arms. "I don't like people."

Robin sighs. He's not surprised. He takes a moment to reapply his mask, steeling his face in its usual blank expression, stands up, and walks over to the group.

###

"Robin, are you sleeping alright?" Lissa asks, worried.

"Pardon?" The man asks, blank faced as normal.

"You always seem tired now." She mumbles, cupping his cheek with her hand. "I mean, you don't _look_ tired, you don't have bangs under your eyes or anything, but you _act_ tired. You're sluggish and distant all the time now..."

Robin sighs deeply. "My apologies. I've been making an attempt to spend more time with you, but I find myself unable to pay attention."

"That's a really roundabout way of saying I'm boring Robin." The princess pouts.

"But you're not." The tactician murmurs. "I just find myself drained from a combination of work and spending time with you."

"What did you do _before_ you started coming home earlier?" Lissa probes.

"I would go eat dinner at a bar." Robin admits. The princess is honestly surprised, she though he'd be too worried about his image to do something like that. "It was relaxing, I did not have to worry about formalities and such, it was just nice alone time compared to the bustle of meetings I usually deal with."

The blonde girl is starting to understand. Robin is an introvert, conversation tires him out, and he deals with people wanting to talk to him all day. If his social willingness is a glass of water, then he's already empty by the time he comes home, and no matter how much he may enjoy talking to her normally when his glass is empty he doesn't want conversation _at all_ , regardless of who he might be talking to.

"Hey! You can relax around me too!" The girl pouts. "We don't always need to talk or be doing something strenuous you know!"

"We don't?"

"Of course not!" Lissa huffs. "Why would we? If you're tired then you're tired! Don't push yourself on my account. I'm totally fine with just lying around or something, even _I'm_ not peppy _all_ the time!"

"I would never have guessed." Robin blinks.

"Hey!"

"What? You've _always_ seemed energetic to me." The man murmurs. "I've never seen you just lying around."

" _Because you spend so little time around me as is._ " Lissa thinks, but that's really unfair to say. His job is important after all. "Well I'm telling you now then. If you want we can just lie around tonight."

"I would appreciate that." Robin sighs gratefully.

"I expect cuddles though!" Lissa pouts. "I don't want to be ignored!"

"O-Of course." The man coughs. "As you wish."

* * *

 **This is a fine ending point. I think I got the main idea across in a satisfying way. Expect to see F!Robin/Chrom arranged marriage next, and then we'll move along to a few requests I have from** _ **The Robin Variable**_ **that didn't fit there.**

 **As with my other series, I'll respond to reviews in the bottom of each chapter.**


	2. Chrom & Robin Arranged Marriage

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **Unlike with** _ **The Robin Variable**_ **I'm not going to keep a hard and fast list of ideas here. I will, however, give you a heads up on what you can expect soon. Upcoming is Pokemon in Fire Emblem, a story with Gangrel and Emmeryn, and a story replacing the first generation of characters with the second and the second with a custom third.**

 **Another self-indulgent chapter, a different version of the last one.**

 _ **I'm changing this story to M**_ **. While last chapter I considered the sex minor enough so as to not be an issue, this chapter warrants the M rating. This does** _ **not**_ **mean my content will change significantly, you can expect the same thing you always have, but I realize that I need the extra leeway of the M rating for some of the stories I want to tell (including this one… and** _ **technically**_ **the last one too… and maybe that Angel Robin chapter from The Robin Variable) so change it I shall.**

 **One last thing. For crossover/world-merger suggestions I can only do what I know, so if you suggest something there's a good chance I might say "no" flat-out because I don't know the source material. Apologies if that ends up being the case, but I'm not going to go play/watch something entirely new just to write a chapter or two.**

* * *

Chrom is expecting the worst. This deal was made by his mother in that one year she reigned alone over Ylisse, and seeing as how all her other decisions as ruler were _terrible_ Chrom doesn't have high hopes here.

The prince has done research on his fiancee. Apparently she's a masterful tactician who fought in the war twelve years ago and has a rather impressive record of victories. A special exception to the law was made to allow someone underaged on the battlefield just so Plegia could use her skills.

That said her birth date is 768, and Chrom's is 776. She's _eight_ _years_ _older_ _than him_ at twenty six, that's the same as Emmeryn, and the prince does _not_ expect her to be happy to be dragged out of her home country to go marry some bratty Ylissian royal because of a deal she probably had no choice in.

"Geeze Chrom, you look like you're going to be ill." Lissa mutters, brushing the boy's hair out of his face. "Just try to chill. This is your wedding, not your execution."

"Sure." The prince says hoarsely. "I'm totally gonna die tonight."

"Don't be crazy. That'd set Pegia up for a hard fall." Vaike says, showing surprising wisdom… and then he says: "Seriously though, the squirt is right. Besides, she's not _that_ old, I'm sure she's still plenty good in the sack. A gal with _experience_ is still good."

Sometimes the prince wonders how someone as crude as Vaike ever married someone as prim and proper as Maribelle. Thankfully Lissa answers the man so Chrom doesn't have to. "Seriously Vaike? That's rude. Besides, I'm fairly sure big bro isn't worried about the consummation."

"Of course he is! The man's never done this stuff before, right Chrom?"

This is _not_ what Chrom wants to be thinking about right now. "Can we _please_ not talk about it?"

"See? Worried."

"Gods… Emm, say something!" Lissa says, turning to their older sister.

"I'm sure Chrom will perform just fine." Emmeryn says with a totally straight face.

"That's not what I mean!" The blonde princess groans. "He thinks he's gonna _die_ Emm!"

"No, he does not." The exalt says, shaking her head. Her tone is soft as she addresses her brother. "You fear you will never find love, don't you? You also do not wish to be a burden to your new wife and feel guilty about making her come to live in Ylisse."

Emmeryn always could read him like a book. "Am I that transparent?"

"Only to me it seems." The exalt murmurs. "Just as I said, you will perform just fine as a husband. I have the utmost confidence that you will make this marriage work."

Chrom breathes out slowly, calming his nerves. "Right… thanks sis."

"And I'm sure you'll do just fine in bed as well." She says, cracking a smile.

"Emm!" The prince moans. "Not you too!"

###

Chrom wouldn't say he feels _calm_ , but he's not on the verge of having a panic attack anymore. Frederick stands just behind him, granting the boy a sense of security. The knight looks quite dashing in his tuxedo with slicked back hair, and the prince notes with amusement how several of the women's eyes in the audience (including some from the Shepherds) are fixed firmly on Frederick.

Lissa is whispering and giggling to Emmeryn in the first row, and Vaike is laughing loudly in the back at something Stahl said while Maribelle rolls her eyes, and Miriel is quietly taking notes, watching everyone around her while Ricken chatters in her ear. Sumia waves to Chrom when she sees him looking at the audience, and the prince nods back. Just as Chrom is about to look away he notices Kellam sitting next to the girl and nods to him as well.

There are others in the audience from the Ylissian delegation too like the captain of the pegasus knights Phila, or the Shepherd's quartermaster Emmet. Both are stoic and silent, watching this entire affair with something akin to boredom.

The Ylissian delegation is still dwarfed by the Plegian side. There are nearly a hundred individuals in the audience for the bride. It's dozens and dozens of cold-faced Grimleal with only a few people that don't look perpetually angry. The most notable is the king of Plegia himself, Gangrel, sitting in the second row. He's leaning over to the first row to chat with a cheery-looking male dark mage.

It's strange to Chrom how the ruler of an entire country can seem so carefree.

There's a creaking noise as the old chapel doors slowly swing open, and Chrom's heartrate suddenly speeds up. His hands clasped at his waist tighten their grip considerably, and his fingers start to go white from his circulation being cut off.

To his surprise he can hear rain outside. It was cloudy earlier, but now the outdoors are dark and wet as the water slams down onto the ground. The prince grimaces, it's not going to help his bride's mood to be wet the entire ceremony.

The lady in question steps inside the building, and Chrom blinks rapidly. She has an umbrella in one hand and is holding her dress up a few inches with the other. The prince watches in a bit of a torpor as a servant takes a small covering off her shoes, leaving them perfectly dry, and then takes the umbrella from her and bows out to his own seat.

She came prepared apparently. There's also a dark-skinned lady with black body tattoos doing something similar just behind her. When they're both done handing off their water protections a tall grey-skinned moves over, takes the bride's arm, and walks her down the aisle with the dark-skinned lady following along behind them.

Chrom forces a smile onto his face. At the very least he should give her a good first impression, he just hopes he doesn't look as terrified as he feels. Robin is escorted up onto the dais by her father, and Chrom nervously looks to her face.

She's ghostly looking woman with a slightly gaunt face. Robin is tall (a head and a half more than Chrom) but thin to the point of it being worrisome. Her blue eyes are shadowed and threatening, and the tousled scarlet hair framing her face only adds to the feeling of intimidation.

The prince isn't completely sure she's _healthy_ , she looks like she isn't eating enough, and like she doesn't get enough sleep. The makeup isn't quite enough to hide it. As a consequence though, Chrom doesn't know if she's actually angry of it she just always looks like she's glaring because of the dark ring under her eyes and the fact that she's looking down at him.

Robin is looking him up and down too. Her eyes roam his body, and a smirk forms on her face. Chrom resists the urge to shrink back or look away from her, and keeps standing as tall and proud as he can. Eventually they properly meet eyes; Chrom is still smiling politely, but Robin's expression can only be described as a leer.

A priest steps up to the dais, adorned in the soft blues and whites of the Naga faith. This chapel is located just on the Ylissian side of the border, and seeings as Robin will be living in Ylisse with them it felt fitting that a Ylissian priest should oversee the wedding.

Chrom is barely listening as the priest speaks. Both he and his wife go through the standard vows, neither having made their own. They're locked in a staring match the entire time, though Chrom isn't sure what she's trying to accomplish. Maybe she's trying to intimidate him, but he's just trying to match her and be taken as an equal.

Eventually the priest says the standard "you may kiss the bride". Chrom is hesitant, but Robin is decidedly _not_. She grabs him by the collar and forces her lips on his. She stares him in the eye as the crowd claps politely, and Chrom can feel her smiling cruelly as she exerts dominance over him.

The prince is thoroughly convinced that he was more right than his sisters. Maybe he won't die tonight, but he has a feeling Robin is going to make his life _much_ harder.

All throughout the reception Robin keeps an arm looped tightly through his and her hand gripping his own. It's a clear message: " _I'm_ in control here." She doesn't look at him that much, choosing to talk with the people that come up to the table. The cheery dark mage Chrom saw earlier is one of the first, and makes a morbid joke to Robin who barks out a laugh.

The prince is surprised when Robin turns to speak to the next person and the dark mage leans in to whisper to _him_. "Heya! I'm Henry! Sorry about Rob, she's a bit grumpy."

Chrom smiles weakly back, not sure how to respond.

"Just don't let her eat you alive and she'll warm up to you eventually." He chirps.

The prince is _not_ reassured.

The afternoon drags on slowly. Robin only releases him so that they can eat, and then throws her arm around his shoulder and keeps a firm grip on him again.

Frederick is wearing a frown as he watches his liege and his new wife. He can't do anything without causing a scene, but he sees the problem very clearly. Beside the knight Emmeryn sits a forced smile on her face. She knows Chrom must be incredibly worried right now, and prays that Robin is nicer than she currently appears.

The sky starts to grow dark, and the reception ends. Everyone starts leaving back to their place of rest with the entire Plegian contingent shuffling back to the camp they've set up on the outskirts of the city.

Chrom counts himself lucky that he doesn't travel alone with his new wife. Frederick sits across from them in the carriage alongside a female dark mage who curtly introduces herself as Robin's retainer, Tharja.

The knight and Robin seem to get into some sort of staring match during the ride. Frederick's expression can only be described as a warning, promising swift pain should anything befall his lord. Tharja seems indifferent the entire ride, but does give Chrom a nod of acknowledgement when the accidentally make eye contact.

At least one of the new additions to his household doesn't hate him, Chrom thinks miserably.

Eventually they reach the place they're staying for the night: a fort owned by the Maribelle's father who was more than willing to let them use it for the days leading up to and after the wedding. Chrom feels a mounting dread as he and Robin are walked to their shared room. Frederick pats him on the back, giving him an apologetic look, and the two newlyweds step into the room. Tharja closes the door behind them, and for the first time ever they're properly alone.

Robin immediately turns and sneers down at him. "So, _you're_ the one who's dragged me from my home, my job, my _life_ , just to play as some trophy for so-called peace."

"My apologies, but I have just as little choice in this as you." Chrom says, keeping his voice firm but reasonable. He doesn't want to sound aggressive, but he doesn't want to be a pushover. "Calling this off would mean no lasting peace between our nations, and I could not be so selfish as to deny that just for the sake of your and my own happiness."

"Peace? You call this peace?" She sneers. "Ylisse and Plegia are still at each other's throats! This gesture is a bandage at best, _boy_ , this is no solution!"

"A bandage is better than nothing." The prince argues.

Robin scoffs. "A naive though from a naive child."

"I am no child." Chrom says firmly. "Perhaps I have not your abundance of experience, but I do have some, I would like to think I'm no fool."

"Not a child, hmm?" She says, giving him a hostile grin. "Oh right, that's because of what we're supposed to do tonight, isn't it? I'm supposed to sacrifice my dignity for your pleasure, but I _won't_ , I refuse to be passive in this little prince."

Chrom grimaces. "It may be required by tradition, but I will not force you into this Robin."

"Oh look at you, being so _considerate_." She says scathingly. "I'm not going to be scared off Prince. I should be asking _you_ if you're up to this." Her grin turns into a sneer. "Has someone as _pure_ as you even _had_ sex before?"

The prince winces a bit. "Well no, and I'll admit to being a bit nervous, but if you are comfortable with this…"

"Oh I am, but as I said before I won't take this lying down, literally. Are you really prepared for that little prince?" She asks, sneering. "I won't let you do as you please."

Chrom swallows thickly. He's very worried about how rough she's going to be with him, but backing out will be even worse for her opinion of him. "I am as prepared as I'll ever be."

"Fine then." Robin says, grabbing his collar and pulling him to the bed. For someone who looks so frail she's surprisingly strong. She shoves him down onto the mattress and then quickly rips herself out of her dress, showing no respect for the garment.

The prince's earlier suspicions about her maybe not being totally healthy are reinforced here. While she's not emancipated, he _can_ see some of her ribs through her skin. He can, however, also see some decent muscle on her frame which explains her strength.

Chrom scrambles out of his own clothes as Robin kneels down on the bed. He hastily throws off his shirt and starts struggling out of his pants. As soon as they're off the lady's hand quickly snakes forwards into his undergarments and firmly grabs his member.

"Hmph." Robin sneers, giving him a light tug which prompts a sharp intake of breath from the inexperienced Prince. The tactician scan his exposed form, and grins lecherously. "You're a looker at least."

Chrom is fairly sure that's a compliment, but right now he's _not_ feeling very confident. Maybe it's just inexperience but he's starting to feel _stimulated_ already, and he doesn't want to make a fool of himself by not being able to hold out.

That interaction sets the tone for the rest of their time together. Robin is mostly detached from what's going on, she touches and fondles but doesn't really _engage_ with him, and shuts down any of his attempts to reciprocate by pushing him down with her free hand.

To be fair, it's not the dangerous affair Chrom thought it would be. Robin doesn't try to hurt him whatsoever, even if she does tend to be forceful. The lady, for all her sneering and dislike of him, doesn't do anything he isn't comfortable with and even puts off the sex for a bit until the prince feels he's ready.

The actual sex _does_ come, but not before spends himself and lies on the bed feeling horribly embarrassed. Robin snickers and runs a hand along his chest, feeling the muscles beneath with her free hand while she patiently pumps him back to readiness with the other.

The actual act is… well it's great, but it's not the _world shattering_ event that books (and Vaike) portray it as being. Chrom, as he's been the entire time, is passive as Robin acts on him. She doesn't seem nearly as distant though, if only because her body is closer to him. Her hands are planted on his shoulders, and she's leaning down a bit to grin sinisterly at him.

It comes to an end in a short time. Chrom simply isn't used to this and it shows with him being pushed over the edge quickly.

Once they've cleaned themselves off they both slip under the covers. Robin lies spread out on the bed, taking up the majority of the space. Chrom refuses to be relegated to one small spot, and politely asks to be given space. Robin just grunts "you'll have to share then" and moves out of the way for a second. Chrom gets settled in, but his new wife rolls back over and lies partially on top of him.

The prince debates arguing against this, but she's not particularly heavy and it's actually sort of comfortable, so as much as her trying to keep control over him is annoying he allows it this time and drifts off to sleep.

###

Robin can't decide if Chrom is condescending or not.

"I'm busy." She says curtly, not looking up at him.

"You've been reading all day. You can take a ten minute break to eat." The prince argues.

"I don't need to."

"You skipped dinner, _again_."

"I'm working."

"You don't have a even have a _job_ Robin."

"Yeah, because I was forced to come to this stupid country where everyone is 'peaceful' and there's supposedly no need for more tacticians." She sneers in disdain. "My skills are useless here."

"So you have time to eat." Chrom says again. He actually holds up a forkful of chicken. "Here."

"What? Are you going to force feed me?" She scoffs.

"No, but I'm going to sit here and pester you so you can't concentrate." He says stubbornly. The boy actually has the audacity to poke her in the cheek with the food. "Eat."

"Will you go away if I do?"

"Yes."

"Fine."

Robin _hates_ giving in to him, she doesn't like letting him think he can control her. She's turned down every invitation he's extended to do _anything_ just to make her point that she won't be controlled… but she can't deny him here. She's hungry, and even if reading is good at distracting her from it she knows she should eat.

Reluctantly Robin picks up the plate Chrom brought over for her and takes a bite out of the chicken. She scowls at the prince's happy expression, he's probably glad that she's finally _listening to him_ , and _doing as he says_.

Or… maybe she's not giving him enough credit. Despite what her actions might suggest, Robin isn't a moron. She realized after about a week that Chrom was _far_ from being a controlling asshole… in fact that definition would be better applied to _her_. She will admit that she went a bit overboard on their wedding day to get her message across. Robin didn't mean to come across as a control freak, but she overreacted in a bid to retain her independence.

It's a bid she's starting to think was unnecessary. Chrom has been nothing but polite to her since their marriage a month ago, and the only thing he's tried to make her do is eat more and go to bed earlier. Sure he's _invited_ her to events and such, but it's never been an order.

Or maybe his kindness is all a trick… or she's being paranoid. She's probably being paranoid. Robin just _hates_ admitting she's wrong, and it's even worse because she has to admit it to someone who's much younger than her. She doesn't want him to get _smug_.

"I suppose it's too much to ask you actually go to sleep at a decent time tonight?" The prince asks.

"Yes."

"Alright. Then." Chrom sighs. He moves behind a shelf for a moment, and drags out a blanket and a pillow. Robin stares at him in disbelief as he drops them on the couch beside her. "If you insist in falling asleep on the couch, at least support you neck and stay warm. It's bad for your health otherwise."

"Yes _doctor_." She scoffs. "I will."

The prince purses his lips, but doesn't respond to my hostility. He gives me a nod and just _leaves_.

She looks at where he left for a few moments, and then sighs, puts down her plate, and whispers: "gods, I'm just being petty aren't I?"

###

Chrom doesn't know _why_ it's changed, but his relationship with Robin has gotten a lot better over the last few months.

The lady is still forceful, but it feels a lot less hostile now. Whey they appear at parties or just generally go out in public together (rare, but it happens on occasion), she still firmly loops her arm through his or grabs his hand tightly but it feels half-hearted, like her show of control is just that: a show.

Robin is overall a bit more gentle, all her domineering actions are less rough. She anchors him to her by threading her arm through his, yes, but at the same time Robin also allows herself to be pulled around if Chrom wants to go somewhere. The prince would dare say the actions formerly meant to dominate and cow him into submission seem affectionate now, done out of habit and familiarity than a real desire to control him.

What Chrom is most happy about though is that Robin is finally starting to look healthy. She took his advice a few months ago and actually started to eat three meals a day and go to sleep at proper times. It's made a world of difference, Robin's eyes no longer have permanent dark rings under them, and while she's still slim she's not worryingly skinny any longer. The prince secretly thinks it's responsible for her new good mood, but refrains from mentioning it so as to not sound like he's saying "I told you so."

The thing that's made Robin by far the happiest was introducing her to, and allowing her to join, the Shepherds. She finally had some use for her skills again and instantly put them to use. The scarlet-haired lady develops a standard battle plan for the team: a flexible basic strategy for when they're thrust into combat without prep time or when Robin isn't around to make a strategy in the first place. She also proves her skill in combat by easily dueling elite Risen such as great knights or heroes with her corseque.

It's strange to Chrom that she wears a longcoat into battle though. Sure she has armor, but that doesn't make the coat any more _practical_.

"Says the man who wears a cape, and only has one pauldron." Robin scoffs.

"Well at least they don't get in the way." Chrom argues back.

"Hey, my cloak is thick enough to act as light armor own and it holds all my stuff. You cape is just a cape, and you have no reason to have only one pauldron unless you're showing off." The lady scoffs, smirking. He pokes him in the exposed shoulder with her nail, though not hard enough to break skin. "Veeery exposed here."

"At least I'm quick, you're slow with that extra weight you're lugging around."

"It's rude to comment on a lady's weight."

"Very funny. Seriously though, you're pretty slow and your armor isn't the toughest."

"I'm faster than an armor knight or a mage though." She counters. "As long as I can anticipate my opponent's moves I'm quick enough to dodge the major damage, and I'm well-armored enough to block minor hits."

"Fair enough." Chrom concedes.

"So then, what's the practical reason for your single pauldron and cape?" Robin asks with a grin, clearly not expecting him to have an answer.

"Morale."

"Pardon?"

"Morale." Chrom repeats, his expression telling her that he's totally serious. "It's inspiring to see something dramatic on the battlefield. That's also why my attacks are so flashy. I can be a good fighter when the time calls for it, but my real job is to be impressive and inspire our teammates to greater heights. After all, a small increase in fighting ability for all of them more than makes up for a small decrease in efficiency for myself."

Robin blinks once, and then laughs genuinely. "That's a surprisingly solid idea! It's a bit idealistic to assume everyone is going to _care_ about your dramatic flare, but with the Shepherds I can understand why it's worked."

"You two can avoid the party with your tactics talk, but the Exalt _did_ want you both here as a to give a good impression of the royal family, and that involves _talking_ with the guests." Frederick scolds.

Chrom sighs and glances at his wife, who rolls her eyes and grins at him. "Shall we go entertain the masses for a short time?" She asks cheekily.

"I don't suppose we have a choice." The prince says. "It looks like Emm is getting tired of being the only object of attention, and I think Lissa and Donnel snuck out an hour ago."

"Of course they did. Well, let's get this over with then." Robin sighs. She stands, offering him a hand up, which he accepts. It's almost funny to think a few months ago the lady would have roughly grabbed him and forced him along, and putting her arm through his would have been just a way to lock him to her. Now it's an affectionate gesture with no domineering intent behind it.

Chrom wouldn't say they're in love, not yet, but this casual affection a massive step forwards from where they were a few months ago. This can work, it _is_ working, Robin is adapting to life in Ylisse, and Chrom will help however he can.

* * *

 **When I first started this chapter I was not expecting to write a Robin who was a bit of an ass. I was expecting to write a Robin that was sensual and easygoing to fit my usual assertive/insecure dynamic. This version of Robin really just came out of nowhere.**

* * *

 **Darkness is complete** **:** I've played SC2 before, I know Kerrigan just fine. Can do.

 **LilacFairy** **:** Oh, well thank you. Glad to have you here!

 **Hawkright-01121999 :** Sure. That's not holding a chapter on it's own though, that's a _very_ minor trait. Seeing as you also follow The Robin Variable, you _might_ see it there rather than here at some point.


	3. Pokemon in Fire Emblem 1

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem or Pokemon, all rights to the owners.**

 **After this there will be a story with Gangrel and Emmeryn, followed by replacing the first generation of characters with the second and the second generation with the third.**

 **This was a request by Kamencolin and Rotciv557. Pokemon in Fire Emblem. To be fair, the pokemon don't play a massive part in this particular chapter, but this is a multi-part story so don't worry I have something (hopefully) interesting planned.**

 **Let me remind you all that if you have Robin-specific requests, I'm probably going to file them under ideas for** _ **The Robin Variable**_ **and not this story unless it's a request for a continuation.**

* * *

"Lu…"

"Milord…"

"I know, both of you." A exasperated male voice sighs. "But I'm not going to leave her lying in dirt, no matter how suspicious she is."

"Stou! Stoutland!"

"See Frederick? Stoutland understands."

"Lucario…"

"Yes, I know, I'll be careful."

"If she breaks your arm I'll heal you!" A young girl chirps.

"That happened _once_ Lissa!" The man groans. "And it was _not_ my fault!"

Robin listens to all of this with vague interest. It's a nice distraction from the fact that she has no memories and no idea where she is. She's a tactician named Robin with short and sharp black hair, light brown skin, and black eyes. That's _everything_ she knows.

"Look, I'm going to see if she's okay. You can stand back if you want to." The male voice says firmly. Robin hears footsteps on the grass approaching her, and she has a split second to choose how to react. Should she be upfront? Should she be grumpy? Should she be friendly? Maybe she should just act like herself, that's probably the best idea.

As the person kneels down over her, she opens her eyes. It's a pleasant sight: a handsome, muscled, blue-haired boy kneeling over her. Yum.

"Ah, you're awake." The man coughs, pulling back a bit. "Hello there."

Flirty? Not flirty? _Flirty_. "Hey there handsome. Care for dinner some time?"

The man blinks in surprise, his blue eyes flicking from side to side in a bit of a panic. From behind him Robin can hear the girl from before laughing loudly as the other male voice gives a long-suffering sigh. "Damn big bro!" the girl calls, giggling. "All you said was hi this time!"

"It's just because he's hot!" Robin calls back, taking amusement from the boy's blush as he hears this. "So, what's your name stud?"

"Ch-Chrom." The boy stammers. He quickly rises to his feet, and tentatively offers her a hand up which she accepts. Now that Robin is on her feet she can see the perky blonde-haired girl and the brooding brown-haired knight standing a few feet back, alongside an old and scarred Lucario, a cheery Audino, and a well-groomed Stoutland which politely nods its head in greeting (Robin returns the gesture).

"I'm Lissa!" The blonde girl says, skipping over to Robin and shaking her hand. "The moody one is Frederick. _This_ is my partner Audino."

"Audino!"

"Stoutland is Frederick's. He's really nice… the pokemon, not the person."

"You realize I'm standing right next to you?" The knight growls.

"Yep!"

"Careful Lissa, he oversees your training routine." Chrom chuckles. "So stranger, who are you?"

"Robin. I'm a tactician." The girl says, and bows dramatically. "That's literally all I know. My memory is a total blank otherwise."

"Ooh, amnesia." Lissa gasps.

"A load of ducklett dung you mean." Frederick grunts. Lucario silently nods in agreement, studying Robin carefully. "You cannot _possibly_ expect us to accept such a preposterous claim."

"But what if it's true Frederick?" Chrom asks. "Emm would want us to give her the benefit of the doubt."

The knight scowls and falls quiet. Clearly he doesn't approve.

"Thank you~!" Robin sings, grinning at the boy. "I like you already."

"With that said though…" Chrom says firmly, holding back the blush that threatens to arise once again. "I must ask what pokemon you have on you." He gestures to the yellow and black ball on her belt that she hadn't even noticed she had.

"Oh, uh… I have no idea." Robin says honestly, taking the ball from her belt. She tosses it lightly to the center of their group. "Go pokemon?"

The ultra ball snaps open, a white light shooting out to manifest the pokemon on the grass. The light fades to reveal a grey-skinned pokemon mostly covered by white fur, with a single crescent horn protruding out of the right side of its head.

"Absol." The creature says quietly, looking directly at Robin. It stares intensely, hardly taking note of the people around it.

"The disaster pokemon." Chrom murmurs. "How rare."

Frederick grimaces. "This is an ill omen."

Absol paces around the tactician and she turns to keep facing it. The pokemon never takes its eyes off hers. After a few circles it steps closer, standing before her, and bends its front legs and bows its head.

"Sol…" The creature says solemnly, with a hint of sadness. It moves over to stand at her side, finally giving the others a cursory glance. It nods curtly at everyone and stands at attention.

"So, that solves that." Robin says cheerily. "I have the _best_ pokemon! Because it's edgy!"

"Sol."

"Sorry, _he's_ edgy."

" _Sol_."

"Fine, he's _serious_." The girl says, rolling her eyes. "I'm trying to make you sound dramatic here!"

Absol politely ignores her.

"With that cleared up, we should head to Southtown." Chrom says, grabbing her attention.

"What's Southtown?" Robin asks eagerly.

Chrom has a vague feeling he's going to be answering a _lot_ of questions for the rest of the day.

###

The prince is aware of Lucario and Frederick glaring at the back of his head as he talks quietly with Robin. He pointedly ignores them.

"No way, you're a prince!?" Robin gasps. "Awesome... Do you live in a castle? Do you eat fancy food all the time? What kinds? Can I try some?"

"Yes, I do live in a castle. I eat 'fancy' food only at home, I'm usually on the move. Veal and fine wine is popular among the nobles, so I end up having that a lot. Personally I prefer spiced rabbit and squeezed apple juice, and I'm sure I can get some for you to try." The boy rattles off, trying to keep up with her barrage of questions.

"Milord, we're supposed to be interrogating _her_ , not the other way around." Frederick warns. "And do not make promises to her, even minor ones. She could be manipulate you into doing _more_ for her."

Chrom rolls his eyes and Robin blows a raspberry at the man. She goes right back to asking questions. "Do you have a fancy title? Does Lissa? Are you, like, His Royal Blueness Prince Chrom?"

"His Royal Blueness...?" Chrom chuckles. "Not quite. It's Crown Prince Chrom Lowell of Ylisse, so I could technically be addressed as His Majesty Crown Prince Chrom Lowell of Ylisse."

"That's the simplified version!" Lissa chimes in.

"Well I could add on all the other titles I technically have and use the more detailed version of the title I just told you, but I think we can all agree that would be tedious and unnecessary." The prince says.

"So that means you're The Grand Sunflower Lissa Lowell of Ylisse, right?" Robin eagerly asks the princess.

"I wish." The girl snorts. "I'm just Princess Lissandra Lowell."

"Her Highness Princess Lissandra Lowell of Ylisse." Frederick corrects. "Do you need more lessons on proper noble titles? It seems the last ones did not stick."

"No, no. I remember!" Lissa says hastily. "No need for that!"

They walk for a little while longer until Southtown comes into sight, and instantly the mood changes. Smoke plumes up from the church, the tallest building in the village, and small fires burn across the top of several nearby structures.

"Bandits." Chrom growls, reaching down to grab the hilt of his sword. "Come on Sherpherds, let's move!"

"Milord, what about her?" Frederick asks. He mounts his Stoutland and pulls a lance from a small holder on the pokemon's side.

"Unless she's on fire, she can wait." Chrom grunts, and helps Lissa up onto Stoutland's back. The blonde girl recalls Audino back into her ball for ease of transport, and Frederick urges his mount forwards towards the town. Chrom and Lucario take off in a run after them, leaving Robin and Absol standing on the road.

"Absol." The pokemon says quietly, looking up at his trained patiently. The question is obvious: "do we help?"

"Of course we do." Robin says. She pulls two kamas from her belt and starts to jog forwards. Absol easily keeps pace, seemingly not putting in much effort. "Go on ahead! You're faster than me!"

"Sol." The pokemon nods, and bounds off to the town at a full run.

When Robin arrives at the town there's already bodies on the floor. Scruffy men in shoddy clothing lie unbreathing on the floor with puncture and slash wounds across their bodies. A few pokemon, poochyena for the most part, lie on the floor as well sharing the same fate as their masters.

"Psywave!" An unfamiliar voice calls out. Robin quickly looks around a corner to see Chrom diveing out of the way of a blue energy ring. The ring hits the floor to his left, kicking up dust and pieces of stone.

"Flash Cannon!" The prince calls out. He lunges forwards, swinging low with his sword to force a squid-like pokemon to flutter higher into the air. The extra hight makes it an easy target, as it's no longer shielded by a small cart to it's left, and a white beam of energy smashes into the creature and kills it instantly.

Lucario comes running out of a side-alley, clearly having been the one to use the attack. It leaps high in the air and comes down on a mage's head, driving one of his fist-spikes through the man's skull.

"Nice job Lucario." Chrom grunts, and quickly downs a vulnerary.

"Chrom!" Robin calls, running up to the two. Lucario tenses, eying the kamas in Robin's hands. "I'm here to help!"

"You are? Good." The prince nods. "And Absol?"

"I sent him on ahead. He should be somewhere around here."

"Alright. Stay close to me, and we'll get through this fine." Chrom says with a curt nod.

The three of them quickly meet up again with Lissa, Frederick, and their pokemon. Audino and Lissa are in the process of healing wounds on Stoutland, which looks lite it took a rather nasty burn. Frederick is on foot, and finishes off a nearby bandit as soon as Chrom and company enter.

"We took care of the mage." Chrom says. "Lissa, how is Stoutland?"

"Should be back up in a moment!" The girl chirps.

"Audino!"

"Oh hey Robin! I just saw Absol a little while ago, did he come along ahead of you?"

"Yes. Where is he now?"

"He ran off towards the other end of the town. He's really strong by the way, he took on three bandits at once!" Lissa gushes.

Robin grins. "Nice. Wish I could have seen it."

Frederick does not look happy to see Robin, but rather than antagonize her the man just sighs and addresses his prince. "This is an unusually large group milord. We've killed at least a dozen plus those killed by Absol, but there are still more of them."

"Overkill for a small village." Robin frowns. "And that was a mage you were fighting, right Chrom?"

"Yes."

"You don't usually see mages in bandit groups. Dark mages sure, that type of magic is a lot more intuitive and doesn't require formal training for the basics, but a normal mage being part of a bandit group indicates that at least some of them have formal combat training." Robin explains. She doesn't know where the knowledge comes from, it feels like she always knew that.

"Good point." Chrom nods. "It would seem Plegia has resorted to disguising their own troops as bandits rather than simply hiring them." A grim smile crosses the man's face. "Perhaps the king is tired of them falling to our blades in short order every time."

"I would not smile milord. That means for trouble for the people." Frederick grimaces.

"Stoutland is good to go!" Lissa announces. She and audino step back from the large dog which stretches it's newly healed leg experimentally and nods in approval.

"Alright, let's get back to work." Chrom nods. "Mount up Frederick."

The knight does so, and they start marching through the village again. They sweep systematically, ignoring the fires for the moment as it's far more important to deal with the raiders. Robin sees some combat fighting alongside Chrom, and is finally able to put her kamas to use. Her fighting style is much slower than everyone else's though. She relies on catching attacks between her kamas and retaliating. It's a style meant more for duels then open combat.

This becomes a problem when Robin gets ganged up on by a bandit and his poochyena. She suffers a number of bite wounds from focusing on blocking the man's axe, and she only survives because of Audino's Heal Pulse support.

" _Maybe I should sit back a bit more._ " Robin thinks as the pink pokemon finishes healing her bloody legs. " _I'm a tactician. While I can fight I'm not a skilled warrior like Chrom or Frederick_."

That proves to be a prudent decision. From her spot at the back of the group she can more easily order the others around without the distraction of being on the front lines herself. Frederick and Lucario don't take kindly to being ordered around, but do so begrudgingly at the behest of Chrom.

With Robin acting as commander, she finds they do a lot better. They have fewer injuries, less dangerous encounters, and are caught off guard by opponents less often.

They find Absol about halfway through their sweep. The pokemon is standing over the corpse of a particularly bulky bandit and his mightyena. He starts following them from a distance off the side, and when they find foes he leaps in for surprise attacks with Superpower.

Robin knows Superpower is a risky move in prolonged fights. It's incredibly effective against the dark types they're dealing with but it weakens the user considerably for a short time, hence Absol's hit-and-run style of fighting. Humans on the other hand don't have a 'type', so Absol uses its usual Night Slash against bandits.

Lucario is also a terror on the battlefield; easily superior to Absol and probably on par with Frederick. The old pokemon easily destroys it's foes with Aura Sphere, and occasionally throws in a Flash Cannon against foes _not_ of pure dark typing seemingly just for variety.

With a combination of Lucario, Frederick, and Absol, the town is cleaned of bandits in less than hour. While the villagers are understandably relieved, the next few hours are spent in a frantic (albeit less panicked) rush to put out the fires through the use of a bucket brigade and a few sympathetic Goldeen that lend their Water Guns to help.

Chrom seemes surprised that the Goldeen help at all. The species is notorious for their temper and generally unfriendly attitude. Perhaps living in the main river close to humans for so long has mellowed these ones.

Nonetheless, after four hours of hard work the last fire is finally put out. The Shepherds, and indeed all the villagers, are exhausted and sweaty and tired. Still, the mayor offers to put them up for the night and also promises some decent food, but Chrom refuses.

"My apologies, but we must be on our way." He says softly. "We need to report back to the capital. We'll try to send help your way for repairs."

"Many thanks your majesty." The old man says, and bows his head respectfully.

As they start walking along the road and the village fades into the dusk, Robin speaks up. "That's not the only reason we're leaving, is it?"

"Of course not." The prince sighs. "A lot of their food probably got burned in the raid. If we'd stayed, they'd probably insist on a feast simply due to me being crown prince. It's best we leave so they don't feel compelled to do that."

"How kind." The tactician smiles. " _Handsome, strong, and nice too..._ "

"By the way Robin."

"Yes?"

"I meant to ask you something. Would you consider joining the Shepherds as our tactician?" The man offers.

Robin blinks in slight surprise. "I... yes, of course! I don't really have anywhere else to go, so sure. I do get paid for that, right?"

"Yes, you get pay." Chrom chuckles. "And you get a room too."

"Yes..." Robin cheers quietly.

"But I must warn you. As a Shepherd, there will be many more days like today: a hard fight followed by hard work, and then a long walk before sleep." Chrom says in a low tone. "It's not glamorous work."

"But someone has to do it." Robin shrugs. "And seeing as I'm good at this sorta stuff, might as well be me."

"Absol."

"Sorry, might as well be _us_."

"Well _I'm_ glad to have you aboard." Chrom says loudly, shooting a look at Frederick and Lucario who both shake their heads. "And I think Lissa and Audio are too."

"You bet!"

"Audi!"

'Either way, welcome to the Shepherds." The prince chuckles.

Robin can't help but smile. Objectively this is a terrible day: she woke up without memories, got into a bloody fight, and spend four hours putting out fires and counting dead bodies... but she also somehow made friends and was responsible for saving many more lives.

That's a positive in her book.

* * *

 **So... this chapter ended up being much more about Robin and Chrom again, but seeing as this** _ **isn't**_ **The Robin Variable we aren't bound by the one chapter rule so there will be a few more chapters on this pokemon topic. I have some ideas I want to use, and I can't do pokemon without showing you which one each Shepherds has.**

 **I decided on a 'one pokemon per person' rule purely to keep the cast to a manageable size. Giving everyone a pokemon already doubles the cast of characters. I don't want it to triple or sextuple.**

 **A cookie to anyone who can guess what pokemon some of the characters have on advance.**

* * *

 **Ultimate Black Ace** **:** Falchion Lissa? Okay, sure. I might not be able to the idea justice though, or I might not do it at all in favour of things I think I pull off better. That sort of deep character-centric exploration is something I'm not really good at.

Perhaps it might show up as a minor point in another chapter though. I'm not limited to just Robin anymore, so I can throw in multiple quirks on different character now.

 **Maxis the Mercenary** **:** Go right ahead. The entire point of _The Robin Variable_ was to inspire other people to do quirky stories.

 **Darkness is complete** **:** Filing that under ideas for _The Robin Variable_.

 **Makeanotherone :** I'll note those all down. I've already done a Robin/Emmeryn one in _The Robin Variable_ , but I might eventually make another variation. For all the others… I'm not a fan of Say'ri, Yen'fey, or the Khans, so maybe don't expect those. Sorry. I have to have enthusiasm for an idea to be able to write it well.


	4. Gangrel & Emmeryn Afterstory

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **After this is pokemon again, then replacing the first generation with the second and the second with a custom third (and maybe some bending of the story too so it isn't repetitive). After that I think I'm going to indulge myself a little bit before moving on to another request, so expect a chapter or two of something random like a continuation that no one asked for or more arranged marriage stuff.**

 **This one is an idea of my own creation. I've had this kicking around for about a year and a half but never bothered to make it. Heck, I had this idea** _ **before**_ **I tried my hand at Merely Shepherds. How well I've executed it here is up for debate.**

 **This might not make a whole lot of sense at first, give it time.**

* * *

Twenty silver. Feh. He thinks I don't know the normal price. I know he's charging me more than everyone else out of spite. I've never done a thing to him, but he still has the nerve...

"I'll take my coin elsewhere." I say, grabbing my pouch from the counter. I'm well aware of all the eyes on me as I swagger out of the market. "Bread is bread, I can get it anywhere."

I pretend not to hear the whispers as I move around the side of the town hall. The Mad Dog of Plegia, former street rat, former king, now street rat again. They say I roam the fields of Wheatveil terrorizing animals at night, stealing crops, stealing money, and posing a danger to all who live there.

One of those things things is true. I _do_ roam the fields of Wheatveil. I live here after all. You'd think these petty commoners would have gotten used to me but no, they still whisper and point like I'm a lone stray dog that wandered over the hill last night.

Sometimes I tell them it wasn't last night, but four years ago after Grima's defeat. More often then not though I move along and pretend I didn't hear anything. Correcting every slight against my already sullied name would take more time than I care to spend.

"Bah." I mutter, opening my pouch and counting the few coins within. "I say 'petty commoners' but I'm still a step below them. Picking scraps and taking only the lowest prices? Mad dog indeed..."

It would be easy to pick a purse or slice a pouch to get some more coin, but those days of thieving are long behind me. For better or for worse spending those few months with the Shepherds changed me. That blasted tactician. I hate persuasive people, especially when they make a good point. I swear that girl was reading my mind sometimes... Now I make an 'honest living' doing odd jobs and living off the small trickle of funds I get for being a veteran of the war against Grima.

Perhaps it was a poor choice to stay in Ylisse. I could have returned to Plegia, at least there I would have a swift death rather than slow torture by scorn and lack of direction. Then again, I know exactly why I'm here and not off in a sandy ditch.

The bar doesn't open until dinnertime, and even then there's too many people for my liking. I'll wait until dusk like usual. No lunch today.

I move past the closed doors of the bar, ignoring a suspicious glare from the old drunk sitting on a stool nearby. I saunter off towards the fields of forest near the edge of town. The canopy of light green leaves still makes it hard to see out or in, but there's a small hill half a kilometre in that oversees the whole town and much of the surrounding forest. Strictly speaking it's the cemetery, but I prefer to think of it as my lookout spot. The old weeping willow near the edge of the hill makes a good place to rest my head as I wait for night to fall. Few come out here, and never on a regular basis, so I'm rarely disturbed.

My stomach aches, but that's nothing unusual. Sleep comes easily in this familiar setting.

###

"Barney..." I say with a crooked grin as I saunter up to the old blacksmith. "Any job for me today?"

"Sorry crook, nothin' doing." The man snorts. He hasn't even bothered to look up form the molten iron he's pouring into a mould. "No deliveries or parts I need today. You'll have to look elsewhere for work."

"Of course of course..." I mutter, skulking away I hate summer. Most repairs are done at the start of spring before planting, and in winter minor repairs are plentiful Even fall sees some due to extensive rain, but in summer there's _nothing_. That means no parts for me to fetch, not deliveries to make. My main source of funds, gone.

Gangrel the delivery man. Oh, how _funny_ it must be to them all. I bet the Shepherds would get a good laugh out of this, seeing how low I've fallen. I know they enjoyed my misery back when I was naught but a war dog for their cause.

"Oye, crook!" Barney shouts, catching my attention. "Why don't cha' move on to Southtown? It's only a day's march from here, and I hear there's good work to be had helping with their new buildings. Fellin' logs, doing construction. I know ya ain't a strong man, but you got enough muscle to put in the work."

I laugh weakly. "If only I could, but I made a promise I won't break. I'm stuck here for now, probably forever."

"However long that'll be at your current pace." Barney sighs, wiping sweat from his brown. "Have it your way Crook. Don't come gripin' to me in a week that you're outta money though."

I wave absently as I leave, not really listening to him. This isn't the first time I've had this conversation with him, and it probably won't be the last. I made a promise though. I'm stuck in Wheatveil.

"Seven silver..." I mutter, peering into my coin pouch. That's lunch, and dinner I'll have at _her_ place because if I don't check soon she'll come looking for me again. I guess breakfast is out of the question though. "Bah, I hate summer."

I make my way back to my usual spot under the weeping willow. I've just settled down for a nap again when something catches my eye. It's a flash of red among the trees below me, then another, and two more after that.

As much as people would like to think the world is at peace after Grima's defeat, they're quite wrong. Plegia is in shambles, even if it's recovering with the help of it's new ruler there are still bandit problems as people try to make their own living at the expense of others... and for those willing to risk crossing the border, sleepy Ylissian towns make for ripe targets.

I would know. I used to send raids against them all the time. Half my army was fed with food stolen from Ylissian towns.

This is my real job, and the real reason I hide out on the hilltop. I play lookout to this ungrateful little town now, whether they want it or not. Bandits are far below the quarry I used to hunt: Risen generals, wyvern lords, _Grima_ itself... but it's the only use I have anymore. I'm just a sad guard under a crying tree.

The bandits don't see me coming. How could they? I strike from above, shooting bolts of lightning from my levin sword as I dance from branch to branch in the pumps through my veins once more, and for that brief minute as I decimate the bandits I feel _alive_.

The minute passes. Seven bandits lie dead on the floor, electrocuted with impunity. My adrenaline fades, and I'm back to reality. I loot through the bandits' pockets, picking up what little money they have.

"Four silver among them? That's eight drinks." I murmur. Then I stop, staring at the dirty coin in my hand. A laugh bubbles up in my throat, burning and hysterical. "Gods I'm pathetic! _Four silver_ is relevant money to me! I was a King! A KING! FOUR SILVER WAS NOTHING!"

A single bluebird flies off, started by the noise I make.

###

"Another!" I say, slamming my mug down on the counter as best I can. My eyesight blurred a long time ago, and my coordination is shot. My other hand grabs about my coin pouch, pulling out one of the last of my silver.

The barkeep is about to accept it when something catches his eye. He then sighs and turns his back on me. I'm about to shout at him, grab for his attention again, when a hand touches my shoulder.

"Whaaat?!" I snarl, whipping around. I'm practically foaming at the mouth, half from being drunk, and half from indulging my self-pity all day. My balance fails me though, and I just end up collapsing against the person in question.

Gentle hands steady me as I flail around like a beheaded chicken. I end up clinging to the person for balance as the world swirls around me and I try not to vomit. The other people in the tavern whisper harshly and more than one rises from their seat, but the person I'm clinging to softly says "I... can... do this." and they all reluctantly back away.

It would be hard to _not_ recognize Emmeryn's voice. That blasted girl actually came looking for me again, I'm not even a full day late! I'll bet someone went and told her that the mad king wandered back into town having a breakdown and started drinking himself into a stupor, and she just felt _compelled_ go go help this _poor soul_.

Look at me. I'm being hauled drunk out of a tavern by the woman I tried to kill. _This_ is definitely a new low for me and that's saying something.

###

I expected to wake up with sun shining in my eyes. Instead I open them to a dim room. The curtains are closed, only letting in a faint bit of sunlight at the corners.

I know where I am, I can describe it while keeping my eyes _closed_ so as to not make this hangover worse. The walls and floor are made of wooden planks, there's a large peach-coloured rug on the floor and paintings of flowers on the wall. The bed I'm sleeping in has a white and green colour scheme, and is more expensive than a commoner could usually afford.

It's certainly more than my eleven silver could have gotten. This isn't _my_ house after all.

I can't hear anyone moving, but I would bet she's already awake. That blasted girl is an early riser. I can smell soup being cooked, trying to tempt me out of bed, and I reluctantly comply. I don't feel worthy of sleeping in this bed anyways. Naga knows I haven't done anything to deserve it, I'm just getting the thing dirty and it's not even mine.

There's only one bed in the house though. That means she chose the couch again. Gods, it's like she's _trying_ to make me feel guilty even though I know she isn't. Emmeryn is too kind to do that, she's just trying to help, and that just makes me feel even _worse_ about all this.

My current clothes are dirty beyond compare, sullied with dirt and booze stains. I move to the closet and drag a small chest out of the back. I don't have a permanent place to stay, usually I sleep under the willow at night during the summer. I keep all my possessions here in Emmeryn's house, stowed away on the off chance I'll ever need them again.

A fresh change of clothes was _not_ the reason I envisioned wearing my old red and yellow outfit again, but the universe seems to delight in cruel japes at my expense. A joke I am after last night, and so a joke I shall look like. I leave the crown next to my signet ring in the chest and push it back into its cubby.

When I finally open the door and move into the main room, food is already on the table. Emmeryn sits there with a cup of tea in hand, patiently waiting for me to wake and join her. She smiles warmly when I take my seat across from her, and pours me some tea to drink.

I've never told her I hate tea, and that's not going to change today.

"I'll wash the bedsheets after our meal." I say, not bothering with pleasantries. "You should have just put me on the couch your Grace, or left me lying in the streets."

The girl slowly shakes her head. I'm not surprised. It isn't in her nature to put herself over someone else. Not even over _me_. "You... are... late."

I grimace, and hide the expression by sipping my drink. The scalding liquid burns my throat, and the bitter taste is most disagreeable. "I had something to deal with your majesty."

Emmeryn purses her lips. "You... lie. You were... drinking."

"Well yes." I admit. "Only because my business took me past dinner time, otherwise I would have come to visit you as promised."

The former exalt is unconvinced. The set of her brow and continued pursing of her lips makes it obvious. "No... business... Barney... said-"

"That old man told you I had no work, didn't he?" I sigh, leaning back in my seat. "Blast it Barney."

"Are... you... _fighting_... again...?" She asks with concern.

To be fair, she doesn't know I deal with bandits that try to raid this little village. Anytime I get a scrape or bruise she assumes I've been in a tavern brawl or something of the like, and I never correct her.

"Yes! I admit it! I've been fighting!" I say dramatically, and throw up one arm across my forehead in a fake swoon. "Call the guards! The mad dog is off his chain again! Call the army! Call the Shepherds!"

Emmeryn's look of concern turns into a pout. She looks so much like her sister when her face scrunches up. "Don't... _mock_... me."

"But it's so _easy_." I respond, grinning. "Besides, I get to see you do this." I poke her in the cheek, and then mimic her expression by puffing up my cheeks like a chipmunk and frowning at her.

Her pout turns into a glower, and I can't hold my expression. I burst out laughing for the second time in two days, this time not for hysterical self pity but amusement. Emmeryn Lowell, former exalt of Ylisse, pouting and glaring like an angry chipmunk because someone teased her (and very lightly I might add!)

My mirth ends when I accidentally hit my head against the wall. I dismiss Emmeyn's look of concern when I suddenly clutch my head. "Just a hangover your Grace. Ignore me, it will pass."

The rest of our meal is spent in silence. Emmeryn doesn't ask about my 'fighting' and I'm in no hurry to return to the topic. When breakfast ends I gather up the dishes (ignoring Emmeryn's protests that she can do it herself) and put them in the empty washing bin.

"I'll go fetch some water your Grace." I say, and bow dramatically. I sweep out the door with buckets in hand, and make my way down to the stream.

Emmeryn's house is located on a small hill of it's own just on the outside of town. It's not more than a few minutes walk away, but isolated enough that the bustle of town life doesn't intrude. It does mean that getting water means walking down and up the hill though. It's beyond me how the girl manages this on her own every day, she's not exactly a pinnacle of physical strength.

In truth I'm fetching the water myself to avoid her for a minute or two. I can't bear staying near her for too long, she's a reminder of everything I've fucked up in my life.

Still though, Emmeryn _is_ the reason I stay here, I made a promise to Robin to right my wrongs as much as I can, and at the end of the war she told me that Emmeryn would be living on her own in a small little town near the border. The tactician never ordered me to protect her, heck she never even _suggested_ it, but playing vigilante was the only thing I could figure to do with my life so I followed anyways.

Looking back, I can't help but think that damn tactician _wanted_ me to follow the former exalt. She was quick to suggest the monthly check-in "for Emmeryn's sake, just to check her memory. She remembers new things every week or so after all." but I'd bet it was also to keep an eye on me. Robin _knew_ Emmeryn would keep my from drinking myself to death, and the monthly check-in is a convenient excuse for the girl to hunt me down if I fail to show up.

That tactician manages to meddle even when she isn't here. She knows both of us too well.

The rest of the morning is slow. I fetch water countless times for the dishes, and then the bedsheets, and then my dirty clothes. Emmeryn insists on helping, and outright ignores me when I try to claim cleaning is my responsibility and not hers because _I_ made the mess. My clothes are so soiled from a month's worth of grime that the water has to be changed _twice_ before Emmeryn deems it clean enough to wear again.

Lunchtime rolls around, and we get to my _least_ favourite part of visiting Emmeryn. Per Robin's suggestion I am to ask her about new memories, dreams, and other things of the sort. For me, it's just a painful listing of all the things I'd taken away from her.

As Emmeryn cooks at the stove, I flip through the notepad she's written in. It's mostly a dream journal, but sometimes there are notes scribbled in during the day about things that seem 'familiar'.

"Another name?" I ask, tapping the page. "Phila?"

"Yes..." Emmeryn murmurs. She carefully measures some spice before dropping it into a boiling pot. "It was... a dream. Light blue... wings... and then... arrows."

"Ah." I say, trying to hide my wince. I know who she's talking about. I've gone through that day countless times in my mind, and certainly enough to recognize even a vague description of the pegasus knight commander that fell to my Risen. "How did you _feel_ when you dreamed about her?"

"Loss... pain..." The former exalt says mournfully.

I write down those words on a separate piece of paper. I'll be part of a report I send to Robin.

"Who... is she?" Emmeryn asks.

"I can't tell you." I say reluctantly. "Robin's orders."

It's true. I have orders from the tactician to not explain Emmeryn's past to her unless I'm explicitly allowed to by Robin herself. Apparently it's because _giving_ Emmeryn information might muddy and confuse her memories, it's better if she remembers most of everything on her own and I just fill in small details.

"Ah..." The former exalt murmurs, looking disappointed.

I move on to the next thing of note, skipping over a few days of nonsense dreams in the process. "Your brother again? What's this about a bath?"

"I remember... we were... young..." She whispers, stirring the pot. "He slipped... almost drowned..."

"In a _bath_?" I say incredulously. "That's either quite the feat of incompetence, or a monstrously large bathtub."

"We are... royalty..." Emmeryn says. "Too large..."

"Fair enough." I concede. I've been inside the Ylissian Royal Palace once and never saw the bathing area, but I remember the baths back at my former caster were quite large.

We go through a few more minor things. Emmeryn remembers a specific piece of jewellery she has was given to her by Lissa, and that her hairstyle was opposed by the court because it made her look 'common' because of how simple it is.

"Truly? Your court commented on your _hair_?" I scoff. "The Pleeeee... uh..." I stop myself, remembering that I can't let her know who I am. Telling her that such a thing would never have been done in the Plegian court would be a good hint to my former status, as I would have to be of high rank to know that. Emmeryn is many things, but stupid is not one of them. She would catch on, and ask questions I don't want to and _can't_ answer.

Not to mention Robin would probably give me an earful (pageful?) for it.

"Why did.. you... stop?" Emmeryn asks, looking at me curiously. I squirm uncomfortably, grasping for an excuse.

A sharp knock on the door saves me from needing to answer, but poses a different problem altogether. It wouldn't be good for me to be seen here. The villagers would think I'm bothering Emmeryn, and they'd be right despite the girl probably protesting otherwise.

I go to hide in the bedroom, but Emmeryn stops me by saying: "I'm... cooking. Can't... leave. Can you...?"

I try to ignore her pleading eyes, telling myself it's perfectly fine to just hide in the bedroom and leave whoever is at the door waiting until Emmeryn finishes. Two steps, close the door. Simple. The mad dog runs with its tail between its legs and avoids a hassle.

Gods but it's hard to ignore her. Stop looking at me girl! Gah... "Fine! Fine! But this is _your_ fault if you get someone else dropping by instead because I'm run out of town!" I hiss.

I stalk over to the door, take a deep breath, and open it.

"Ah, Gangrel. I did not expect to see. From what Robin told me, you should have met with Lady Emmeryn _yesterday_." The red-headed mage says, adjusting her glasses. "Was there a change of plans? Did some circumstance arise?"

"Well... sort of." I respond, confused. "You're the Shepherds' scientist, correct...?"

"Indeed. Miriel." The lady responds curtly. Abandoning her earlier question, she asks: "is Lady Emmeryn home?"

"Yes, she's cooking." I step aside and let in the mage.

Emmeryn doesn't seem surprised at the mage's intrusion, like she knew the lady was coming. She's even set out an extra spot at the table. "Miriel... you have... it?"

"Indeed." The lady says, and pulls a light green bottle from her coat. It looks about the size of a wine bottle, but I doubt it's alcohol. "One cup every night. You should get results within the week's end."

"Thank... you..." Emmeryn nods, accepting the bottle. She moves to the bedroom to find somewhere to put it, and Miriel turns to me.

The mage pulls a small scroll from one of her many pockets, and offers it to me. "You have new orders from Robin." She says with a flat voice. I accept the parchment, she tips her hat, and then marches out the door.

Here and then gone in less than five minutes. How... efficient.

I'm curious about the contents of the scroll, but I have not finished questioning Emmeryn on new dreams and memories quite yet. I'll wait until night time, I have a bad feeling about this scroll and I think I'll need some booze to go with it.

###

I stare at the words in front of me, hoping that I'm seeing this wrong. I read it over several times looking for errors, something I misinterpreted, _anything_ to hint that it's not what I think it is.

 _Gangrel,_

 _If you're reading this, Miriel arrived at Emmeryn's house with a potion some time recently. I presume Emmeryn gave you this letter sometime soon after. That potion is the result of three years research and a thorough testing process._

 _That potion is supposed to facilitate memory restoration. I'll spare you the details and just say it's magic enough to blast someone's mind apart if they drink too much of it at once. That's where these instructions come in._

 _You are to stay with Emmeryn for the next month. Ensure she never takes more than the suggested dose, and otherwise care for her while she is under the effects of the potion. Side effects include: exhaustion, migraines, mood-swings, flashbacks, hallucinations, fainting, and temporary comas. Emmeryn is aware of the side-effect, she was told of them in a previous letter._

 _To be clear: you are to do_ _everything_ _for her,_ _no exceptions_ _. Cooking and cleaning are dangerous for her now that she can faint at any moment without warning. If she needs to get up for whatever reason, you are to be standing next to her at all times. Show her this letter once you are done reading it to ensure she understands the situation._

 _Side-effects should start appearing about one week after she starts taking the potion. Pieces of memory should start returning at about the same time._

 _Rip off this bottom section after reading it. This is for you alone Gangrel. It is likely Emmeryn will remember you and your deeds at some point during the following month. No matter her reaction, you are to stay with her for the full duration of her taking the potion. The exhaustion from the potion should prevent fleeing or violence. If she refuses to keep taking it for whatever reason slip it into her food and drink, or force feed her if you have no other choice. A fragmented memory is worse than no memory, it can easily drive a person insane._

 _I apologize in advance for how terrible this next month is going to be for the both of you. The royal family will arrive approximately when the effects of the potion end to see the results. If it fails, return to the status quo. If it succeeds... you are subject to Emmeryn's judgement now that she has full knowledge of your doings. Chrom gave you extra time because you were useful, and I extended that, but Emmeryn has final say on your life._

 _-Robin_

 _PS: You should really consider telling her about the bandits you're fighting. Her positive opinion of what you've done the last four years might be what saves you._

In a bit of a daze, I tear off bottom of the letter and stuff it into my pocket. It's all coming to an end. I suppose it had to happen at some point, but I hoped it wouldn't be so soon.

Wait, what am I saying? I want her memory returned, don't I? I'm trying to make amends for my past misdeeds, right? Sure, if she gets her memory back I might be executed on her orders, and even if I'm let free I don't have any sort of _plan_...

Gods above, I really don't want this to change, do I? How sad is it that I _want_ to keep sleeping against a tree every night and starving durning the summer? Without Emmeryn to protect I'll just be a husk, aimlessly wandering the world!

It's like what I told Chrom when he talked me into joining his little team. Dragons, Gods, throw me at what he will, what little life I have remaining is his. My only job, informal as it may have been, was to watch over Emmeryn. Without that, what am I? A dog with no leash! A stray! A dog that fights to survive and makes the streets its home!

I won't go back to that, I'd sooner die in the gutter than be a thief again.

###

"Gods, you need to stop this fool girl!" I growl, pushing the former exalt back down onto her bed. "You read the instructions! _I'm_ making dinner, whether you like it or not!"

"But... I-"

"No! I won't have you killing yourself out of stubbornness and ruining four years of work!" I snap."

"I... won't-"

"HAH!" I shout, startling her. "You say that, but I also know you read the letter! Fainting can strike _at any moment_ and _without warning_! So _lie down_ , this isn't up for debate!"

Emmeryn's face turns to a pout as she lies back down. She folds her arms crossly and glares, but I ignore her and stalk back out to the kitchen.

Gods, it's like dealing with a child. Gangrel I want to do this, Gangrel Iet me do that, I don't want to go to sleep, I want to cook, I want to bla bla bla...

Is it so hard to just lie there and let me do things for her? I used to do that all the time when I was king, I sat around on my throne letting people bring me food and entertainment, it was glorious! Why won't she just do the same!?

Maybe it would help if I was actually a good cook. The only thing I'm decent at cooking is meat, and only over a campfire. I've tasted my own cooking here, it isn't fantastic but it _is_ edible. I'm a novice, not a disaster!

It's a week into this whole monitoring job. No side-effects are showing so far but I'm holding firm to the orders anyways. Robin knows best; I've yet to see anything to prove that wrong.

"Damn, damn, damn." I grunt, smelling something burning. "Gods, why does cooking have to be so _frantic_? How does Emmeryn do this on her own all the time?"

As I try not to burn down the girl's house, I hear a thud from the bedroom. I swear quietly and move the pot off the flame for a moment so I can check the room. I open the softwood door, peering inside, and find Emmeryn curled up in a ball on the floor.

I drop to one knee next to her. Judging by the grimace on her face it's probably a migraine. I _told_ her not to get up, she didn't listen, and exactly what I predicted happened.

The migraine only lasts a minute, and Emmeryn shakily uncurls herself when it's over. I help her back into bed, and for once she doesn't argue. "I-I... remember... something. My brother... an army..."

" _This is going to be a fun three weeks._ " I think, grimacing.

###

The next week goes by slowly. The exhaustion from taking the potion starts to show the day after her first migraine, and she starts acting strange soon after. Sometimes the girl talks at random to people that aren't here, nightmares are frequent, and more than once the former exalt suddenly stops in the middle of a sentence and remains unresponsive for hours.

Memories return in chunks based around subjects. First comes memories about her family: she spends an entire afternoon talking at the wall, presumably parroting a conversation she had in the past. The next day she is mostly unresponsive, lying comatose from the morning all the way into the afternoon.

One morning however...

"I... _know..._ you." Emmeryn says when I step in to bring her breakfast. "Don't I?

"You know I'm not allowed to tell you that." I sigh, handing her a plate of food.

"No... your face... in my memories..." She breathes. "Why?"

Oh. She's started remembering me, or at least the events around her execution. That's bad, _very_ bad. It's going to make these next two week extremely unpleasant.

Through the rest of the day Emmeryn focuses on me. She keeps trying to ask me questions like "are you... Plegian?" and "were you... royalty?" There are a few nonsensical ones too, like "why... crows?"

I can't say anything per Robin's orders. All I can do is try to keep my expression neutral so as to not give anything away.

At the end of the day, after the girl has taken her medicine and I'm just snuffing out the lights, Emmeryn gasps loudly from her bed. I peer in, expecting another migraine or hallucination, but instead the girl is staring right at me and clutching her sheets tightly.

"Y-You..." She stammers, wide-eyed in fear. "Tried to... _kill_... me."

"Yes." I say curtly. "Goodnight."

I close the door before she can get another word in. I know I'm running from the inevitable confrontation, but this dog had never been good with talking things out. I've learned that problems I can't stab or yell at are best avoided.

Emmeryn is quiet in the other room. I go to sleep on the couch hoping she's passed out on the bed and not hiding in a corner.

###

I'm not sure if I should be thankful or worried that hallucinations take up most of the next day. Emmeryn speaks to someone (an advisor I think) for the majority of the morning, discussing in hushed tones what is to be done about the 'newfound' Plegian aggression. Midday she spends arguing, loudly, against preparing Ylisse for war, claiming that any sign of hostility on Ylisse's end ruins chances for diplomacy.

That's total hogwash of course. In my state back then I would have _never_ have bothered with diplomacy, but I suppose she didn't know that. How _naive_ she was to even try though, a fool right up until her fall. A well-intentioned, noble, idealistic, but utterly naive ruler.

As cruel as it sounds to say, perhaps it was best Chrom took over Ylisse. He's not quite as peace-loving but infinitely less foolish.

"Look at me waxing philosophy over _Ylisse_ , the country I tried to conquer." I scoff. I'm sitting in the corner of Emmeryn's bedroom on a stool, watching her stare blankly out the window from her bed while murmuring to herself. I shake my head and lean back against the walls. "When did I start to care about this land of racist crusaders?"

"Misguided..."

"Racist, misguided, same thing." I scoff. It's only _after_ I say this that I realize Emmeryn actually responded to me. My gaze snaps to her, startled. She's looking at me with clear eyes and a furrowed brow. "Erm…"

"Gangrel." Emmeryn's voice is surprisingly clear, her speech impediment having faded somewhat with the return of her memories. "I did not expect to see you again."

"Whatever do you mean?" I say, forcing my usual crooked smile. "I saw you just yesterday, and the day after that, and that, and that, and a month earlier too!"

The girl is unphased by my attempt at derailing the conversation. "You tried to kill me." She says, repeating her words from yesterday. Then she asks. "What changed you?"

"Are we really having this conversation _now_?" I groan. "When you're likely to slump over at any moment like a tired infant? Can't this wait until you're _not_ drugged to high hell?"

"No."

"Fuck." I say plainly, and then sigh. "Alright, alright, fine. What changed me? What turned the Mad King into a stay dog?"

"I didn't say-"

"You don't have to girl. I know you're too polite." I scoff, looking at the ceiling. "I changed because I almost _died_ , and lived as little better than a slave in a pirate gang for the better part of three years. I changed because living didn't, and doesn't, matter to me anymore. I'm a dog for your brother and his wife to throw at their problems because it's better than dying in a gutter."

Emmeryn is silent.

"Unconvinced, are you?" I say. "I'm not surprised. I don't expect you to believe me, and I don't need you to. I'll do my job one way or…" I trail off when I glance back down, seeing that the former exalt has fainted on the bed. I sigh and move to adjust her to a more comfortable position "I told you so."

###

Emmeryn doesn't ask me again about why I've changed again. The last week is particularly bad, she's lost in hallucinations so often that it's hard to get her to eat. As a result most of her meals are eaten cold.

I'm very aware that judgement day will be upon me soon. I haven't told her about my bandit fighting, and my chances are running out. Then again, I haven't really been _trying_ to tell her. I had plenty of time, a full week before the side-effects even started appearing, to tell her if I wanted to.

The truth is that I just don't care. Live, die, I'm long past caring. I just want to hear Emmeryn's sentence. Will she order me executed, or condemned to live? Both are fitting punishments for what I've done.

I just need to wait a little longer. Only a few days left.

###

The knock on the door comes mid-morning, a few hours before lunch. Emmeryn is resting on the couch, tired but at least not hallucinating, so I get the door.

Chrom is the one to answer first. He gives me a curt nod and asks "where is she?"

"Couch." I say curtly, standing aside. The boy pushes past me, followed closely by his yellow-haired younger sibling, blue-haired future daughter and white haired future son, and finally Robin with her. The tactician catches my gaze with her bizarre eyes: two perfectly reflective mirrors lacking any sort of pupil, making it a bit difficult to tell where she's really looking.

"Gangrel." Robin says in acknowledgement. "You followed my orders?"

"Of course." I nod. "What good is a dog that can't do what it's told?"

The girl purses her lips. "Emmeryn is fine?"

"Well she is _now_." I say. "Now that all the hallucinations are done anyways…"

"Good job." She says, and pats me on the shoulder. "Did you end up telling her?"

I instantly know what she's talking about. "No. I don't care what her judgement is either way."

"Ah." The tactician frowns slightly. "You're being honest… well, let's see if we can't get that out of the way first then."

"Joy." I say dryly. "Lead on Grand Deliverer."

Robin frowns. "I hate that title."

"I know."

The two of us step into the kitchen where the rest of the royal family is gathered around Emmeryn. Lissa is crying while hugging her, and the elder sibling is smiling serenely like normal.

"I hate to interrupt the reunion, but I think there's something, or some _one_ , we should get out of the way first." Robin says reluctantly, tapping Chrom on the shoulder. The prince looks up, grimaces, and nods.

"Alright, fine." He says, and turns back to Emmeryn. "Emm, there's something you need to do." Chrom gestures to me, and I wave at her with my usual crooked grin. "Gangrel has been in our employ over the last several years, but his fate is still you choice. He's still responsible for your death, and thousands of Ylissians during your rule. You have final say on his life."

"He lives." Emmeryn says instantly, and I blink in shock. To my confusion no one _else_ seems even remotely surprised. "I remember my time fighting Grima, and I know the effort he has put in to trying to attone."

"Sulking around a town for four years counts as 'attoning' now?" I scoff quietly. "Bah, you're as foolish as ever girl."

"You also helped kill an omnicidal dragon." Robin reminds me.

"Bah, so did about fifty other people." I say dismissively.

"We can discuss this later." Emmeryn says firmly. "For now, I want to spend time with my family."

Aaand that's my cue to leave. I hope I have enough money for some food at the bar…

I slip out of the house, grimacing for a moment when I notice I'm still in my old royal clothes. Maybe I _won't_ have lunch at the bar. A little bit of hunger never hurt me before. Well, so long as it's only a _little_ bit of hunger.

The graveyard should be empty of people, I'm sure my usual spot is open. I need to think anyways. I'm going to _live_...

Gods, why can't people just take their revenge and make things simple?

* * *

 **Now I want a picture of Gangrel sitting against a weeping willow in a graveyard, and maybe another of him and Emmeryn having tea in a little cottage.**

 **Arguably not my most well written chapter, I would actually love to see an entire story on this idea (perhaps minus the potion? I don't know) but I know I'm not going to do it, so I'll shoot this out here and hope someone else takes a liking to it.**

 **Originally this story was going to cover several months. It was going to focus more on Gangrel's self-imposed hardships, and there was going to be this whole dynamic where Emmeryn keeps trying to help Gangrel and he keeps trying to avoid her because he feels guilty about receiving said help.**

 **Oh, and he has a chest at Emmeryn's place to keep his stuff in because he's homeless. Emmeryn is totally fine with him just** _ **staying**_ **at her place, but he won't out of guilt and because he knows literally everyone would think he's mooching off the overly-generous somewhat-disabled lady and try to run him out of town.**

* * *

 **Mram99** **:** Two cookies, not telling you for who. Also yes, definitely Chrobin.

 **Darkness is complete :** Not familiar with that, sorry.


	5. Pokemon in Fire Emblem 2

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening or Pokemon, all rights to the owners.**

 **Time for another chapter or two of pokemon, then we'll move on to second generation replacement, and then I'll indulge myself for a few chapters before moving on.**

 **Remember that this isn't a full-on story, if I skip things it's because I don't want this to drag on forever and I want to show off some of the ideas for the lore of this world because that might take a bit to get to.**

* * *

"Absol…"

"Where?"

"Sol."

"Huh. So there is. Looks like they're fighting these things too. We should go help them."

"Absol ab!"

"Right, right. The hot prince before the weird masked kid." Robin nods. She's still tired, clearly not at her best. "Can't get distracted… Ooh, the kid has a Dewott-"

"Ab _sol_."

"Right, sorry, coming."

###

"Stou!"

"How far?"

"Stou, stou."

"Two miles…? That's quite far to wander." The knight grimaces. "They must have been chased by these things, or pushed away by the flames."

"Stoutland!"

"Someone else?"

"Stou, stou."

"Two others. Is one of them Robin?"

"Stou!" The pokemon leaps high over a burning log, and Frederick has to grip tight to Stoutland's fur to keep from falling off.

"And someone unfamiliar too…?" The prince grimaces. "Be safe Milord, Milady…"

###

"Gods, this is chaos. Where the hell is the captain?"

"The beautiful flame both gives and takes..."

"Not the time for your flowery bullshit Ruffles."

"Of course dear Sully, my pardon. The sheer poetry of the moment took my-"

"Pretty sure that's the smoke going to your head." The cavalier says, cutting him off. "Now hold on tight, we're gonna jump this gap!"

"Th-The one with lava coming out of it!?"

"Yep, hope you don't mind some heat Ruffles! Come on Rapidash, let's do this!"

###

"Close Combat!" Chrom commands in a roar. He jams his sword into a notch in the general's armor, holding it in place for a brief moment.

Lucario strikes faster than the prince can blink, unleashing a barrage of rapid punches that create a whistling noise from the sheer speed they're moving at. The general's armor dents and crunches under the attack; even solid steel isn't enough to protect from the might of a fighting type.

The general falls, keeling over backwards onto the scorched forest floor. Purple smoke puffs out of the metal, and the armor seems to deflate as the body inside just… disappears.

The aging pokemon pants as it pulls back. Close Combat is a strainful move, even more so on Lucario's old body.

"Chrooom!" Lissa wails. She and Audino are running from a pack of undead Poochyena, which are oddly silent as they bite at her heels. "Help!"

"Audino!" The pink pokemon squeaks. It ducks behind a tree with her trainer, concentrates for a moment, and creates number of small pink hearts that fly out at the undead pokemon. Sadly Attract seems to have no effect against _any_ of them, leading Chrom to believe that all undead must be immune.

He supposes it's possible that all seven of those poochyena are female, but he doubts it.

"Aura Sphere!" Chrom shouts. He lunges to his sister's defence, slicing one of the dark-types in half with a single powerful swipe. A signature blue energy orb flies by his head and obliterates one of the undead, and is swiftly followed by two more as the aura pokemon easily shoots down the poochyena thanks to their predictable movements. "Are you alright Lissa? Audino?"

"W-We're fine." Lissa stammers, clearly shaken.

"Good." The prince sighs. "I hope the others are okay too…"

###

"Deee _wott_!" The pokemon cries, slashing the Risen myrmidon open with Razor Shell. Purple smoke billows out of the wound, and the monster quickly dissipates on the wind. "Dew, Dewott!"

"Yes, I saw!" The masked figure grunts, dueling a foe of their own. "Boast later, fight now!"

The pokemon huffs in annoyance, but does as she's told. She whirls towards the next foe, a Risen barbarian, and purses it's lips. A beam of white-blue ice lances from her mouth, coating the creature in frost and making the follow-up Razor Shell an easy kill.

" _Gods, where are the others?_ " The masked figure thinks grimly as they finish off their opponent. " _I arrived more or less at the right time and place, but the others aren't here!_ "

"Dewott!" The pokemon cries in warning. The masked figure dives out of the way, which saves their life, but still suffers a nasty burn to the shoulder from a mage that snuck up on them.

"Pick a god and pray!" An old, familiar voice shouts. A blur surrounded in an orange aura barrels past the figure, slamming into the mage and knocking it over. A quick stab from the knight on the pokemon's back (the figure can see it's a Stoutland now that it's slowed down) kills the creature without much issue. The knight turns to look at them. "Stranger, are you injured?"

"Minorly." They say curtly, pushing themselves up. "Nothing to worry, I have a vulnerary."

"I'm afraid that I cannot stay, I am searching for my leiges." The man apologizes.

"Is one a man with blue hair and only one sleeve?" The knight nods, and the figure points off to the left. "I saw them over there, I was following them before I got ambushed."

"My thanks." Stoutland bounds deeping into the flaming woods, leaving the figure and their Dewott in the small clearing.

"Let's follow behind Frederick." The masked figure murmurs, downing her drink. "There'll be fewer foes if we follow in his wake."

"Dewott…" The water-type says disapprovingly.

"You can show off some other time Dewott. Remember our mission."

###

"Where the hell are we?!" Brady shouts, whirling around while clutching his pokemon in his arms. "This ain't Ylisstol!"

"I-It's not Plegia. Wrong kind of trees…" Noire mumbles nervously. She fingers her bowstring, keeping watch for Risen or bandits. She glances up at the moon. "It looks like it's early morning, just after midnight."

"Hark my fellow survivors!" Owain calls from his spot up in a tree. "I spy snow on yonder north trees! I have reason to think we are in the land of the frosty warriors, noble allies to Ylisse!" When the two others blink at him uncomprehendingly, the myrmidon sighs and speaks normally. "We're in Ferox. The trees in the distance have snow, and they're all coniferous."

"Luuucha!" Hawlucha cries in warning from Owain's side, pointing at something to the west. "Hawlucha!"

"Risen? Already?" Owain mutters. "Perhaps this timeline is further along than we expected… Comrades, prepare for combat! Our eternal foe sends more of his vile forces against us, even here in our new home!"

"O-Oh dear…."

"Duskull…"

"Get back in your pokeball where it's safe." Brady mutters, trying to keep a handle on the squirming pink puffball he's holding with one arm while digging in his robes for the device.

"Iggly, Igglybuff!" The little thing pouts, flailing it's tiny arms in protest.

"I know yah want to, but yer not old 'nuff for this." Brady chides. He successfully frees the pokeball and returns the protesting puffball to it. He then pulls his heal staff from his back, grimacing. "Alright, let's git this horror show over with.."

###

"Shit."

"Shiiiiieldon!"

"Eloquent as always Kjelle, Shieldon." Laurent murmurs, flipping through the maps he stored in his robes. "Hmm… we're in Ylisse at least. Too far north though."

"Great. So what do we do, just _walk_ to the capital?" Nah grumbles, kicking a rock. "We have no money, and it's _weeks_ away, right Laurent?"

"Not quite." The mage says. "Only a single week… at a forced march every single day."

"Yeah, you two can't deal with that." Kjelle says bluntly. "So it's gonna take a bit, and we need money somehow right?"

"Correct."

"Easy solution. We just murder a few bandits on the way and take their stuff." The knight shrugs. "This is before Grima's return, right? There's bandits _everywhere_ in these times!"

"A fair point." Laurent agrees. "Duosion, anything to add?"

"Duo." The pokemon shakes its head.

"Alright then." The mage closes his book.

"Alright what?" Nah asks, annoyed.

"We better get walking." The mage says simply.

###

"Fuck you too!" Severa shouts at the sky, sticking up both her middle fingers. "See this universe?! Fuck you!"

"Sev, calm down."

"Shut it Inigo!"

"I don't wanna die here, out in the middle of a desert surrounded by bandits, with mandibuzz circling our heads…" Yarne wimpers.

"You too Yarne, we'll be fine." The dancer says, forcing a smile. He's not a leader by any means, but _someone_ has to take charge here and it clearly won't be these two. "Right Sawk?"

"Sawk." The pokemon nods firmly. It pats Yarne on the shoulder reassuringly, but the taguel doesn't seem reassured.

"Mawile, dear." Inigo says tentatively, he knows the pokemon likes him _even less_ than her master does. "Can you talk some sense into her? Panic won't help us."

The pokemon gives Inigo a scathing look, clearly hating to take orders from him, but reluctantly listens and pulls on Severa's sleeve. She and Severa promptly get into a shouting patch, but a minute later Severa is quiet (albeit fuming and glaring at everyone).

"Alright, thank you." Inigo coughs. "So it would seem we're in Plegia-"

"No _shit_ Sherlock."

"Severa please…" The dancer sighs. "We need to find something to orient us, a recognizable landmark or a map. Then we can make tracks for Ylisse, but we'll most likely need a covered wagon and some camels. We can't risk travelling in the desert on foot, a sandstorm would be the end of us."

"Fine." The girl growls. "But it's the middle of the night! Which way do we go?"

"It doesn't matter." Inigo says bluntly. "None of us know how to navigate by stars. The point is to try and find a town before sunrise, we take advantage of the cold and move _now_ rather than waiting for sunup to figure out which way is west to Ylisse."

"So we might go in the wrong direction?!" Yarne squeaks.

"Maybe." Inigo admits. "But potentially finding a town is better than sitting here and baking when the sun comes up in morning."

###

"Eek!" Cynthia squeals. The cut on her leg stings, and she retaliates with a solid swing of her lance. "Aerial Ace Tranquill!"

The pokemon trills loudly, and does a quick loop in the air before slamming into the offending Noctowl. Cynthia stabs with her lance again, and this time gets a solid hit that ends the flying Risen.

"A hero always triumphs…" Cynthia murmurs, reassuring herself. They're certainly overwhelmed though, they need to keep moving and get that kid they saw out of here. "Come one Gerome, we need to help them!"

"We're going to get overrun at this rate!" The boy snarls. His killer axe lashes out furiously, murdering the Risen Weavile that had been sneaking up on him. "Charizard, can you fly yet?"

"Char!" The old pokemon bellows. It flaps its injured wing, grimacing. The fire-type then reels back, taking a deep breath, and then snaps it forwards and unleashes a torrent of flame that bathes the area in front of them in raging fire.

"Charizard still can't fly!" Gerome snaps up at the younger girl. "We need to back off!"

"You do that, I'm getting the kid!" Cynthia says stubbornly, and flies off towards the temple.

"We're here for ten minutes, and she's going to get us killed saving some random kid." Gerome growls. "Let's get out of here."

"Charizard!" The pokemon beats its wings again, and this time seems satisfied with the concoction's work and pulls into the air. She then starts following Cynthia, despite Gerome's protests.

The kid, despite looking panicked earlier, is faring rather well. His thunder is powerful, blowing apart lesser Risen with ease. The small Eevee at his side is also more competent than it appeared. It currently has used Double Team, making a number of illusionary copies of itself that distract the stupid undead monsters, and launches waves of Swift to wear down the Risen for the boy to finish off.

"Never fear, Cynthia is here!" Cynthia shouts. She swoops down on Tranquill's back, doing an Aerial ace on a sorcerer, and lands next to the kid. "Come on, get on!"

"Eevee, return!" The boy shouts, holding out the pokeball. He clambers on Tanquill's back without complaint, and the pokemon swiftly takes to the air.

The combination of the frigid Feroxi wind and the extra weight clearly doesn't agree with the flying-type, but it struggles on valiantly. Gerome knows they're too slender to support two passengers though, so he shouts "give him to me! Charizard can support another!"

Mid-air transfers are a practiced maneuver for them, so the boy slides onto Charizard's back without much issue. After that they quickly fly off. The boy covers their retreat with bolts of lighting, which are particularly effective against the surprising number of flying types here.

"So!" Cynthia shouts over the wind once they're far enough away. "I'm Cynthia! The grouchy one is Gerome!"

"Hmph."

"Who are you!?" The girl hollers.

"I'm, uh, Morgan!" The boy calls. "A tactician!"

"Cool!"

"Charizard!" The pokemon roars, catching them all off guard.

"Talk later, fly _now!_ " Gerome snarls, breaking the quiet. "Charizard just spotted more fliers to our left and right!"

"This forest is _crawling_ with Risen!" Morgan shouts, supplying information. "I've been running for a day at this point and I've seen no end to them!"

"Great." Gerome growls, eyes narrowing beneath his mask. "This is going to be a long night…"

* * *

 **It's my hope that the multiple perspective jumps adequately converys the chaos of the burning forest cutscene and subsequent fight, as well as what the children must have felt arriving all scattered (I chose to bunch them into groups so I could actually write about them and not have them come in so late into the story).**

 **Strangely enough, the entire Oshawott line has higher special attack than physical despite looking like physical attackers, having scalchops which have been shown to be used for Razor Shell (a** _ **physical**_ **move), and learning mostly physical moves overall. Lucario** _ **also**_ **has higher special attack than physical despite what it's spiked appearance would suggest.**

 **Guess what attack Stoutland used to save Marth was. A virtual cookie to the first who guesses right.**

* * *

 **Mram99** **:** Yeah, Gangrel didn't the memo that Emmeryn is forgiving to a fault. Unfortunately there is no 'next' to this story. I feel it's rather complete as is. It could make a chapter set _before_ this point detailing all the things Gangrel did over the years after Grima's defeat but before Emmeryn gets her memories back, but I had a hard enough time with this chapter despite a rather good (I'd like to think) premise, so _I_ won't be continuing it.

 **PrincessArien :** I ship them too, and share your feelings. What really cinched it for me was the hot springs conversation. That shipping potential was totally intentional by the way, the only reason I held off on a proper pairing of them because I didn't think it would be fitting at this point in time.


	6. Pokemon in Fire Emblem 3

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening or Pokemon, all rights to the owners.**

 **We'll get to second generation replacement eventually, but for now more pokemon.**

* * *

"Ooh, she's hot."

"I'll thank you to _not_ refer to our Exalt as 'hot'." Frederick growls at the tactician.

"It's true though." Robin insists. "Right Virion?"

"Well I would not put it so crudely. Perhaps some metaphor about the beauty of her light is in order… but yes." The man coughs.

"Luca." The old pokemon growls, towering over both of the strategists. Virion cowers, but Robin ignores Lucario entirely. She's learned by now that he won't do anything without Chrom's permission.

"She's also the best big sister anyone could ask for!" Lissa chirps.

"I'll second that." Chrom chuckles.

"Hey… why isn't everyone swarming _you_?" Robin asks, poking the prince in his unarmored shoulder.

"I'm not the face of the country." The prince says.

"He just hits things and tries to look noble." Lissa pipes in. "He mostly just ends up looking like a dork."

"A handsome dork though." The tactician offers with a cheeky grin. She's already starting to love the light blush that springs up on his face when she teases him. You think he'd be used to this stuff, he has to have other admirers that flirt with, noble ladies of some sort, but he's blushing because of _her_.

Maybe she's wrong, she's probably wrong, but she _likes_ that thought.

"This crowd is annoying…" Sully growls. Rapidash paws the ground anxiously, clearly not enjoying being so close to strangers, so the cavalier pulls out her pokeball and says. "Rapidash return. I'll let you back out when there's fewer people here."

The pokemon gives a thankful grunt as it's absorbed back into the red and white ball.

"Audino!" The pink pokemon calls, waving at the exalt. Audino is too small to be seen over everyone else of course, but it continues to flail its arms anyways. "Audi!"

"We'll see them soon." Lissa giggles, patting the pokemon on the head. "Don't worry."

"We will?" Robin asks excitedly.

"Of course! Her outings never take long." The princess hums. Someone in the crowd bumps into her by accident, causing the girl to stumble. "Ugh, let's just get to the castle already. It smells like sweat and dirt out here…"

###

Lucario and Frederick are glaring at him again. Chrom finds this too funny to care though, and ignores them.

"So squishy~!" Robin coos, hugging the round pokemon happily. Blissey smiles patiently and pats the tactician on the head with one of her stubby arms. Emmeryn seems just as amused as Chrom and is more than content to tolerate Robin's impulsiveness. Audino is sitting in her lap, happily accepting a head rub from the Exalt.

"My apologies Milady." Frederick says through gritted teeth. "We found her just outside of Southtown, and due to her skills as a tactician Milord saw fit to have her join the Shepherds. He has done little to enforce common decency though…"

Chrom shrugs unapologetically. "She's no worse than any other Shepherd."

Frederick's shoulders sag. He can't deny that.

"Anyways, we've also be graced with the service of an archer." The prince says, gesturing to the man in question.

"Tis I, Virion! Archest of Archers!" The noble gives a sweeping bow. "An honor and a pleasure your Radiance!"

The exalt gives a stately nod. "I look forward to hearing of your exploits Lord Virion."

The archer falters, surprised that Emmeryn recognized him immediately. "Aha… my reputation precedes me it seems."

"I keep track of more than just Archanean politics." The lady murmurs. "If you have matters to discuss I will hear you tonight. As for now though; Chrom, we should meet with the council."

"Of course." The prince nods. "Lissa, I presume you can show Robin and Virion to the barracks?"

"You can count on me Bro!"

"Good. Lucario, Frederick, Stoutland, let's go." Chrom murmurs.

Emmeryn rises from her seat and puts Audino on the floor, and Robin reluctantly releases Blissey to let the pokemon go with her trainer. The tactician and Audino mournfully watch as the exalt and her partner stride off to the council room with Chrom, Frederick, and their pokemon in tow.

"So soft…" Robin whines. She glances down at her own partner, who's be lying patiently against a pillar. "Why aren't you soft and cute Absol?"

The disaster pokemon doesn't grace that question with a response.

"Audi…"

"Oh come on, I can give you head rubs too." Lissa huffs, scooping up Audino. "What's so great about Emm?"

"Audino, au _di_ no, audi!"

"Well okay, I guess that's true…"

###

The entered the barracks to see a Sawsbuck digging through a crate of food.

Robin was mildly surprised, but Lissa seemed more annoyed than anything. She ran right up to the pokemon and pulled its antlers to try and get it to stop all while yelling. "Stahl! Sawsbuck is getting into the food again!"

There's a rustle of armor and cloth as a man in green armor comes jogging down one of the stone hallways. "Oh, thanks Lissa. I was wondering where he got off to." The man grabs something from inside his pockets and waves it under the pokemon's nose. "I've got your favourite Sawsbuck. A candied apple."

The season pokemon's nostrils flare as they catch scent of the treat. It's head follows the candy like it's tethered, and Stahl slowly leads the pokemon out of the room by baiting it with the treat.

"Is this…?" Virion starts slowly.

"Normal? Yeah, pretty much." Lissa sighs. She picks a few half-eaten carrots out of the box and throws them aside. "Ugh. Emmet's not going to like this. Anyways, uh, welcome to the barracks I suppose. It's messy, but it's home." She pauses. "Well, not for _me_ , but for the others it is."

It's almost like there was some sort of cue. A loud crash sounds from the side of the building, followed by a pair of yells.

"Machaaaaamp!"

"Yeaaah!"

"Gods, what are those two doing now?!" Lissa groans.

"I'll deal with it." Sully sighs, opening the door to leave. "You get these two settled."

"Thanks Sully." The princess says. "I swear it's not _always_ like this."

"Absol." The pokemon mumbles, looking unconvinced.

"Shush you!" Lissa says, poking the pokemon on the horn. "Follow me!"

The blonde-haired girl leads them down a few hallways. Robin peers in each open door as they move, noting the dining room, the kitchen (a mess, looks like Sawsbuck got in there too), and a recreation room with some games, a bookshelf, and several chairs.

"Here we are… uh, don't choose the ones with names obviously, but otherwise you can take whatever room you want." Lissa says.

The hallway is rather generic, it's just grey stone with a few windows and a simple carpet down the middle… a carpet that looks chewed and half ruined.

"We just got that replaced." Lissa scowls, kicking the sheet of cloth. She whirls around and stomps off. "Staaaahl! Sawsbuck ate the carpet again! If this doesn't stop, it's going to come out of your pay!"

Robin and Virion share a glance, both shrug, and take the earliest available doors to the left and right.

###

" _Do they already have a thing? Please tell me they don't have a thing._ " Robin whines to herself, watching the aerial knight stammer her way through a conversation with Chrom. " _If they don't, I should act fast before shes gets her act together…_ "

"My, what brings such a squint to your eyes dear bird?" Virion chuckles. "Mayhaps a headache? Or a tizzy of conflicting thoughts?"

"Shush." Robin says, not turning to look at the archer. " _I barely have memories, I shouldn't be worrying about a relationship already. He's hot, yes, but I met him only two days ago… and I shouldn't be so vicious towards the girl. She's done nothing to deserve it_."

The tactician sighs and stops staring at the two of them. She's getting ahead of herself.

"Saaawsbuck!"

"Ah, no, Altaria!" The aerial knight shouts, suddenly break off her conversation with the prince. She runs outside, and Robin peers through the door to watch. "Get off of him!"

A large fluffy bird pokemon has taken a seat on Sawsbuck's antlers. Stahl, the girl, and Sawsbuck itself are trying in vain to get the creature off but it refuses to be moved. Sawsbuck actually has to roll over just to get the stubborn bird off, and even then it tries to get it's spot back as soon as it can. This results in the two pokemon running (and flying) around the front yard in some strange game of tag.

"Sorry Sawsbuck!" The girl shouts as she chases the two pokemon with stahl

"What on Earth…?" Robin mutters, stepping up next to Chrom who is watching all this with a fond smile.

"Sumia's Altaria really likes Sawsbuck's horns." The prince says simply, watching the chaos. "We still haven't figured out _why_."

"As amusing as this all is milord…"

Robin jumps, surprised. "Holy shit, were you here the whole time?!"

"Yes." The knight says curtly. "Milord, we have a mission."

"I'm aware Frederick."

"Alta! Altaaaaria!"

"Sawsbuck!"

"The Vaike heard a struggle, and he's here to show you kids how it's done!" A blond-haired man proclaims, walking into view from around a corner. A large four-armed pokemon stomps up behind him. Vaike sees everyone chasing Sawsbuck and grins. "Hey Champ! First one to pin Sawsbuck wins!"

"Machaaamp!"

"No!" Stahl pants, already running out of breath from chasing his pokemon. "I… we… gah… sorry Sawsbuck!"

The pokemon in question bleats in surprise when Vaike and Machamp suddenly tackle him from the side. The season pokemon goes down in a flurry of limbs as the two assailant pin him to the floor.

This is immediately followed by Altaria squawking at them and grabbing one of Vaike's arms in its talons and trying to pull him off Sawsbuck. The situation quickly devolves into a four-way wrestling match between Vaike, Altaria, Machamp, and poor Sawsbuck.

Stahl and Sumia decide to _not_ get involved, and keep a few steps back from the scene. Sumia looks horribly embarrassed while Stahl just looks tired from the chase.

Eventually Machamp wins. No pokemon is a match for his sheer strength in a brawl. Despite being a bit worn out herself Altaria takes her place on Sawsbuck's antlers as soon as the pokemon stands up again. It sings a loud, soothing note; healing the injuries of those involved in the scrap. The Humming pokemon then readjusts a few of the green leaves adorning Sawsbuck's antlers and happily settles down on the other pokemon's head.

Sawsbuck is not amused. Vaike is though, as is his pokemon companion.

"Alright you lot." Chrom chuckles, stepping outside. "That's enough. Gather up the others, I have a mission for us."

* * *

 **I could go on, but I think this is enough for now. I'm having fun with what I can do with the pokemon…**

* * *

 **Mram99** **:** Nope! It's something a bit less obvious than those. No POV shifts this chapter, Those will be a bit more sparse so as to not bog down the story too much. Cynthia and _Gerome_ (Laurent is with Kjelle and Nah) don't recognize him for reasons, basically I assume since Morgan worked for the Grima in the bad timeline that he got taken at a young age so no one except Lucina would have even a _chance_ of knowing who the hell he is.

 **Darkness is complete** **:** I'll put that in for The Robin Variable.

 **Kamencolin :** Still more to come!


	7. Succubus Lucina

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening.**

 **A change of pace before we return to more pokemon. Second generation replacement comes after that.**

 **This chapter is me testing the waters with giving other characters quirks. I have plans for a quirkverse at some point; I'll probably put a few chapters on this collection, but I think I'll actually be restarting** _ **Merely Shepherds**_ **as a quirkverse story.** _ **Eventually**_ **, not anytime soon. I already have three ongoing stories (this one,** _ **The Robin Variable**_ **, and** _ **Five Stars**_ **) so a fourth would be overkill.**

 **Oh, and this chapter is** _ **not**_ **part of the quirkverse. I have something entirely different in mind for the royal family for the main quirkverse, so this is an AU of an AU that doesn't exist yet I guess.**

 **Writing from the perspective of the succubus is difficult as hell. This would have been so much easier from Laurent's POV, but then this would basically be the same as the Succubus Robin chapter from** _ **The Robin Variable**_ **.**

* * *

"Laurent, are you still up?" Lucina asks quietly, standing at the entrance of the boy's tent.

There's a faint rustle of paper and the sound of a chair moving. The red-haired mage opens the flap a moment later. He blinks rapidly when he notices her hood is down, exposing her usually hidden face to the world. "Y-Yes, I am. Have you need of something?"

"It's late Laurent." She admonishes, but steps inside the tent (much to Laurent's surprise). "What's keeping you up this time?"

Laurent's tent is much more cluttered than the rest of the tents. It doubles as the supply tent, and if filled with a large number of small bags and extra weapons. His notebooks are piled under the wooden plank he's using as a writing surface, and his bedroll isn't even laid out yet despite the late hour. Lucina would bet he's been working non-stop since they got here and refused to spare even a second to set it up.

"Just a routine inspection of supplies." The boy mutters, sitting down at his makeshift desk.

"A routine inspection shouldn't keep you up well into the night." Lucina scolds.

"Yet it does." The mage sighs. "It shouldn't be much longer though. I'm almost finished. Don't worry about me your Highness."

"But I must." She insists. "Can I help somehow?"

Laurent hesitates, but gives in. "If you wouldn't mind counting our rations…"

"Of course!"

The two work in relative silence for a few minutes. Laurent checks between two sheets, figuring out how much they've lost and gained of various supplies as Lucina checks their rations.

"Ten days worth if we're eating the bare minimum." She reports. "These apples are going to go bad soon, we should eat them tomorrow."

"Noted. Thank you your Highness." He murmurs, scribbling the amount down. "Well, that's all for tonight. You really should go to sleep Milady."

"So I should." Lucina says. She subtly takes off her gloves behind her back. "I have a problem though."

"And what is that?" Laurent asks, risking a glance at her face. Lucina doesn't pass up the opportunity and locks eyes with him. She puts a bit of magic into her gaze, making it hard (harder than usual anyways) for him to look away.

"I'm hungry." She whispers. The boy's eyes widen in confusion. His expression turns to panic when she reaches out towards him. "And you're easy prey."

The boy stands in a hurry, but Lucina is only a step away and grabs his wrists. She pulls him against her body and forces her mouth on his. Calling on her innate magic she pushes a sleep spell into his body, and over the next minute the boy slowly stops fighting as his eyes droop closed.

Not even the most powerful mage or warrior in the world can resist the spells of a succubus once they have intimate physical contact. A kiss isn't the most potent, but it's more than enough to overcome Laurent's resistance.

Lucina sits cross-legged on the floor, letting the boy slump against her. She wraps her arms around his waist and his shoulders to make sure the sleeping boy doesn't fall over.

If you told Lucina that forcing her teammate into unconsciousness and then kissing his sleeping form was creepy, she wouldn't disagree. She hates doing this but all the villages they've come across this week have been abandoned. It's either feed from one of her teammates or starve to death, and that's not really a choice.

Feeding is always a bit surreal for Lucina. She never feels quite like herself during both the act itself and the lead up to it. She has to pull on deceptive and seductive skills she feels shame to even _know_ much less use, and the feeding itself is a conflicting mess of self-disgust and pleasure: the pleasure of a good meal, but the disgust of feeding from someone innocent and _especially_ a friend.

She'd much rather drain a bandit. Then she wouldn't have to feel guilty about the exhaustion or confusion that follows from the draining and subsequent memory wipe… or she can just kill the bandit. That works too.

The princess has to admit her friends _taste_ a lot better than bandits though. If she remembers her mother's notes correctly taste depends on the health of the individual you're feeding from. The healthier someone is the better they taste.

Lucina wonders how Laurent would react if she told him he's tasty. She quickly decides against it.

###

"Yon portal is open, onwards to salvation my friends!" Owain cries, rallying the team. Lucina has to admit that for once he looks properly heroic, standing on the broken column with his sword pointing towards the glowing blue portal. "We shall not fall today! If this world cannot be saved, then to another we will bring our warnings! Let not the memory of our world fall here with us!"

Their team makes a mad push for the portal. Noire stands next to it already, firing a constant stream of arrows from her to cover her teammates. Her face contorts into a fierce snarl as she shouts "Vengeance!" and obliterates a great knight pursuing Yarne with an arrow wreathed in black magic.

"Come on Sev, this isn't the end yet." Inigo grunts, carrying an injured and unconscious Severa on his back. The girl's skin is waxy and pale, the result of Nosferatu draining. Kjelle marches just behind them and swings her silver lance in wide arcs to keep the pursuing Risen at bay.

"For Ylisse!" Cynthia shouts, diving at a sorcerer in the backline. She swoops fearlessly down into the mass of Risen to pick off the dangerous caster with a quick jab of her lance.

"ROOAH!" Minerva shrieks. The wyvern brutally rips an axeman in half with her teeth while still positioned over the curled form of Gerome. Brady is by his side keeping a careful eye on the raging wyvern while healing the boy's wounds.

Nah and Laurent rain down fire on the Risen from a distance. The mage is burning through his tome rapidly in attempt to give his friends the opening they need to get to the portal, and the dragon is exhausting herself belting out fireballs long past the point she's fit to do so.

Lucina is on the frontlines herself. Falchion sings in her hands as she cuts through Risen heroes, generals, and berserkers. Grima has sent her very best against the princess's small team, but still they survive. It's as Owain said: they will _not_ fall today.

Gerome is the first one through, carried by his faithful wyvern. Brady stays near the portal to heal those coming through. Laurent is the next one to pass through the blue light, his tome is totally empty. Everyone else converges on Severa, and when the unconcious girl is carried through the portal by Inigo the rest of the team follows quickly.

Lucina is the last through. She wishes she had some defiant words to shout as she escapes, but none come to mind. Instead she spits at the hoard of Risen and dives into the portal.

It's like nothing she's ever felt before. Travel through the portal feels like a dream, or perhaps a hallucination. She sees glimpses of her friends and Risen alike in the flowing blue streams of magic, but no matter what she does the princess can't reach them. Sometimes she feels like she's so close to her friends but their fingers never touch.

Then suddenly it stops. She's lying on her back, looking up at the sky. There's so many things she could be doing, but all Lucina can do is marvel at the glowing, bright, _blue_ sky.

###

Being captured by bandits was not the plan. Granted, there wasn't much of a plan in the first place, but getting captured certainly wasn't part of it.

"Keep moving bitch." The man holding her manacles growls. "I'm not carrying you."

Lucina trudges on. This long walk is nothing to a girl who's spent half her life on the run, and she knows the bandit is bothering her only to make himself feel better.

She wishes she could keep her hood up right now, but for once being a succubus has come in handy. Lucina's unnatural beauty is probably what's keeping her alive right now. Among her friends the fact that merely exposing her skin is distracting would be a problem, the fact that her voice can calm the emotions of others risks giving away her heritage, and her arousing touch causes far more trouble than it's worth… but among these vile men all those qualities are helpful. Those abilities she can't shut off and has grown to hate are, for _once in her life_ , useful.

But now is not the time to overdo it. Her mother's words ring in her head. "When captured, be patient, form a plan, and when the time comes don't hold _anything_ back."

###

Lucina knows what his intentions are when she's dragged into the tent with him alone, and she's

thankful that she'll be able to stop him long before he actually does anything to her. It would be helpful if her gloves were off but she can work with this.

"So girlie." The grizzled man says, gripping her by the collar with his grimy fingers. He leers at her through an unclean beard. "You've killed six of me men, and you know how you're going to pay me back?"

She won't give him the satisfaction of her saying it. She stays silent, keeping eye contact so her magic can take effect. The princess steadily pushes more and more magic into her gaze, building it slowly so he doesn't feel a sudden spike in power.

The effect isn't too noticeable, but when the man temporarily forgets what he was talking about while staring at her Lucina knows her influence has taken hold. Time to push the advantage.

"You won't get anything from me." Lucina says. She's well aware how painfully generic her refusal is, but it isn't the words that matter. What's important is how she angles her body: she thrusts her head forwards to glare at him, baiting him into grabbing her by the chin or trying to claim her mouth.

He does the latter and seals his death. Despite how disgusting he tastes it's probably for the best it happened this way. A kiss means he can't cry out for help. The princess feels morbid satisfaction when the man's eyes widen in realization. He tries to pull away, but there's no escaping a succubus once you've got their lips on you even if they're bound and chained.

Usually she'd inflict paralysis or sleep right now, but she needs to get out of these restraints. Better to just flood him with seduction magic so he'll listen to commands.

Lucina honestly never thought the day would come when she would use her abilities to mind control someone, but here she is. There's a lot less actual seduction in succubus mind control than you'd think (which is just as well, Lucina _sucks_ at actual seduction unlike her mother). All that's really required is touch so you can overwhelm the target with magic. As with all succubus magic the more intimate your physical contact, the more potent your magic will be.

"Now…" Lucina murmurs, pulling her mouth away and grimacing at the taste. "Would you mind getting these bindings off me?"

"O-Of course." The man stammers. His former leer is totally gone, replaced with an almost pleading look. He scrambles to undo the tight cloth knots and Lucina is free within the minute.

So what now? She's still in the center of a bandit camp. "My sword?"

"H-Here Milady." The man grovels, pulling it out from under his mattress. The princess pulls out the blade and inspects it, and notes thankfully that it hasn't been marred.

"Good..." Lucina mutters. "What's the closest village to here?"

"Southtown Milady."

Southtown? That's where father first met mother in her world. If what Naga told them is true then they should be almost at that point in time in _this_ world. She needs to be around to prevent aunt Emmeryn's assassination, but aside from that she shouldn't need to interact with the Shepherds all that much. Lucina wants to find her friends anyways.

So she'll follow the Shepherds until the assassination is prevented, and then gather her friends to stop Grima from ever rising.

"Thank you sir." Lucina says, more out of habit than any actual feeling of goodwill. "Your assistance is no longer needed."

"Do I get a reward Milady?" The man asks, and the princess shudders. Of course, she's his _master_ right now. Gods that's unnerving.

"Yes." She says, beckoning him towards her. The princess _does_ need to feed after all, and there's no need to let this man live to harass others.

###

"Lucina!" Laurent calls, pushing through the crowd towards her His wide-brimmed hat makes him easy to spot even among all the people.

The princess blinks in shock. She wasn't expecting to see one of her friends so soon, the assassination hasn't even happened yet! It's a struggle to maintain her composure and not rush towards the boy. As soon as he's in arms reach she grabs him and pulls him to the side of the street.

"Laurent! I didn't expect to find one of our friends so quickly." Lucina says happily.

"Quickly?" The boy says, confused. "Lucina, how long has it been since you exited the portal?"

"A month? Give or take a few days, I got captured by bandits for a bit and stopped counting."

"I-I see... well, for myself it's been two years." The boy says quietly. "I'm glad to finally see a friendly face."

"Two _years_?" Lucina gasps. "That's quite a while, are you alright?"

"It took a while to make my way to Ylisstol." He admits. "Half a year. I had the misfortune off appearing in the middle of Ylisse's desert to the east of here."

"And you've been staying in Ylisstol since then?"

"Yes." He nods. "I have even seen my mother on occasion though I'm yet to make contact. I wasn't sure what your plan was exactly, so I refrained from revealing myself."

"Good." The princess says. "The more we change the timeline, the less we can predict. I plan on revealing myself to prevent the assassination, and then leaving the Shepherds to their own devices while I, _we_ , locate the rest of our friends."

"I can't argue. It's more of a plan than I had." The mage admits. "For now though, how long do we have until the assassination?"

"I'd guess a month." The girl says. She glances around at the crowded street. "Maybe we should take this inside?"

"Of course. Follow me, I have a room."

###

"You're older than me now, aren't you?" Lucina points out. "You were only a year younger than me, so with the two year gap you're a year older now."

"I suppose I am." The mage nods. "It doesn't feel like I am though."

"How not?"

"You are still my leader, my _liege_ , and have always been the most mature of any of us. A mere two year gap does not seem to have diminished that. In a mere month you have developed a plan, whereas I had none for two years." He murmurs. "Perhaps in body you are not older, but in mind there can be no doubt."

Lucina meant for her comment to be a simple observation, not a cause for serious discussion, but she can hardly let this lie. "Laurent, don't be absurd. I may not have mentioned it, but _you_ are the model I based myself on. It is _your_ composure that I try to emulate."

"You flatter me."

"Not so. I lack all skill for the insincere. I speak only the truth." Lucina responds firmly.

"Ah." That single word and the minor shuffling of his feet is probably the closest Lucina has ever seen Laurent to being embarrassed. He's totally unflappable, and _that_ is why the princess looks up to him.

The two of them are sitting in his room in the inn. It's small but clean, with a desk in the corner that is covered with books and papers set in neat piles. Lucina is sitting on the bed while Laurent has taken the desk chair.

"Laurent. I have a question."

"Yes Milady?"

"How much does a room like this cost for a month?"

"Twenty gold. Why?"

"Ah." The girl grimaces. "Well, I could rent a room for _one_ month..."

"You don't have a job." It's not a question, it's a statement.

"No, I do not. I have only what I took from the bandits."

"Well, in the interest of not wasting what little money we have, it may be prudent if you stay here with me." Laurent offers. "I have employment as a scribe at the royal library so I can pay for the room. You have more pressing duties to attend to, correct?"

"Erm... not quite." Lucina admits. "Until the assassination is due to happen, there is little for me to do."

"Well, be that as it may, I'm sure you can find something important to do." The mage says with absolute conviction. "I have full confidence in you Milady."

The princess smiles (not that Laurent can see it with her hood up, but still). "Well, with that vote of confidence I can hardly let you down. I'll be sure to find something then."

The rest of the afternoon is spent with Laurent recounting what has happened to him over the last two years. It's a lot of walking, doing odd jobs, and a few nights spent sleeping in the forest after escaping the desert. Foraging for food rather than buying it is also a common theme, he didn't have more than pocket change upon going through the portal.

The last thing they do for the day is discuss sleeping arrangements. Laurent, with his usual consideration for others, tries to insist that she take the bed but Lucina refuses to hear it. If she's not paying for anything, there's no way she's going to take the bed.

###

Laurent tries not to let it show, but his liege's unnatural allure is very distracting now that he spends so much time in close quarters with her. Lucina has always had strange powers that draw others to her: her voice calms the emotions of others around her, a touch is a surefire way to make someone weak in the knees, and looking at an exposed part of her body for too long (even something like her _hair_ ) can put you into a daze.

The mage is no fool, he knows that's magic of some sort. He also knows that Lucina is aware of her own powers because she covers herself entirely and avoids physical contact even with her gloves on. Speech is something she can't really avoid doing, but the calming effects are minor anyways.

Still, Laurent has a few guesses as to what this all means. He's long since resigned himself to never asking her, it's not his place to pry, but it does mean he's eternally guessing and trying to puzzle out what her powers are the result of. He doubts she learned to use this magic; permanent manipulative spells don't seem her style. That leaves the other option of this magic being innate, something she can't control... which means she's probably not human.

Sirens, harpies, merpeople, succubi, alraunes, some variants of lamia and undead, nymphs, powerful angels... all of those have some degree of inborn manipulative magic that match the description of Lucina's powers. Granted some of those (harpies, merpeople, alraunes, lamias, undead, angels) are extremely unlikely due to Lucina lacking their distinctive physical features.

There are also probably other beings that Larent is either forgetting or has never heard about. The number of humanly intelligent species in existence are frankly absurd. But from what he's aware Lucina is _likely_ a siren, succubus, or nymph.

One of those is a lot more problematic than others. Sirens and nymphs are basically just human with a few extra abilities. Succubi on the other hand have an incredible array of abilities and have much more _potent_ abilities, but have the drawback of needing to feed.

Laurent is thinking all this through because Lucina has decided she's comfortable enough to keep her hood off in the room, which is problematic for him in that he can't look directly at her anymore. Conversations with his liege now involve him staring at the wall beside her head as they talk.

Sometimes he wonders if it frustrates her to not be able to look anyone in the eye.

###

Lucina couldn't tell herself _why_ she's watching Laurent sleep. Feeding from sixteen bandits in one night a week ago filled her up for a while, yet she still finds herself staring at his sleeping form with hunger in her stomach.

Maybe feeding from a lot of people doesn't mean she'll have to feed any less the next time? Maybe she needs to go out and feed from someone else? It's worth a try. She exits the room quietly and makes her way down the stairs... but the feeling is gone. She's full.

What's going on with her?

###

Hopefully Panne will show up. Over the last month she managed to get in touch with the Taugel, and she just has to hope the reclusive lady is willing to believe her. Laurent's work thankfully ended an hour ago so he's here as well.

The mage hides in the trees as Lucina steps out to speak to her mother and father. She makes sure her hood is well over her face, any exposed skin might give away her succubus nature and by extent imply a relationship to her mother long before her infant self is alive. That would be messy.

"Prince Chrom." Lucina says, stepping out of the bushes. The prince whirls around in surprise and the hooded tactician by his side subtly reaches for her tome. "I come with a warning."

"Who are you?" The prince asks.

"A messenger. Your Exalt is in grave danger." From the corner of her eye she sees Laurent giving her a signal, he's pointing to a bush a few feet to her left. She nods her head towards the same bush. "From assassins like him."

The assassin, realizing he's been exposed, lunges out form the bush with his sword drawn. It's simple to cut him down halfway through his desperate charge. The second assassin is a surprise. Thankfully Laurent is more observant than her and shoots him down with a well-placed blast of fire.

"I hope that's enough proof for you?" Lucina asks somewhat sarcastically.

"Y-Yeah." The prince nods. "Let's get going."

###

It was an innocuous gesture: he offered her one of the apples he'd packed for the trip, but Lucina noticed how inordinately happy she felt after accepting one. She felt warm and a bit giddy, and when she glanced back over at the mage she was struck by the desire to hug him.

She doesn't of course. The princess is well aware of the potential consequences, even with her gloves on an intimate act like that would probably put him under the influence of her innate magic (albeit minorly) which would be manipulative.

The princess never really thought about romance before, but now that she has she feels disappointed that she can't even show interest in someone without worrying about her powers. Her newfound and unexpected interest will just have to be ignored. It's not the first time Lucina has suppressed a desire and it won't be the last.

Absently, she wonders how her mother dealt with this. _Somehow_ she married her father, and Lucina has faith that her mother didn't flagrantly manipulate him into marriage.

###

"Rejoice my companions! Cynthia, the winged hero of Ylisse, has returned to us! Finally we are whole again!" Owain shouts, raising his cup in the air.

Despite being in a pub none of them are having beer. They're all too conscious of the negative effects it has on combat capability to ever drink some. A toast with water isn't quite as fitting, but it's enough for Owain.

The other patrons of the tavern probably wouldn't believe it if they were told Owain _wasn't_ already drunk.

"And of course we all have our brave leader to thank!" The myrmidon says with a flourish of his hand. "The hooded princess, braving forest, frost, and... desert."

"Nice one Owain." Severa snorts.

"Shut up, I ran out of words that start with f." Owain mutters from the corner of his mouth. He clears his throat and continues. "She who braved the dangers of the world to help her friends! We owe you, dear cousin, our eternal gratitude."

The boy bows deeply, and Lucina flushes a bit at the praise. When the others actually _clap_ she pulls her hood down as far as it can go to try and hide her embarrassment.

###

"So wait, _all_ of you are children of the Shepherds?" Chrom asks incredulously.

"Well... yes." Lucina coughs. She wan't planning on revealing that so soon, but accidentally yelling "father!" while blocking a sword strike for him forced her hand.

Her mistake.

"And you are my daughter."

"Yes."

Chrom stares for a moment, scrutinizing her, but a big smile crosses his face soon after. "I can see the resemblance to us both."

"Really?"

"Of course. You have my hair, not to mention the brand..." He murmurs, running his fingers through her long hair. "You have your mother's beauty, not to mention sense of restraint."

"Pardon?"

"You wear gloves and hide your face just like your mother." He chuckles. "You detriment yourself just to avoid accidentally influencing others. If that's not restraint I'm not sure what is."

Lucina doesn't think of it as restraint. Hiding her abilities is _necessary_ , showing herself is doing evil by letting her magic manipulate those she cares about. "If you say so Father."

"Father..."

"Do you wish I not call you that?" She asks hesitantly.

"No, no, it's nice. It will just take a little getting used to."

###

"Mother, I have a question." Lucina says nervously.

"What is it dear?" The silver-haired tactician asks. They both have their hoods off, enjoying a private meal in Robin's tent. Neither of them feel the the innate attraction that usually results from gazing upon a succubus's face, so it would seem that they are immune to each other's powers.

The princess isn't sure how her mother will react to such a personal question, and Lucina isn't exactly comfortable talking about romance, but she _needs_ to know the answer to this. "How did you court Father without manipulating him?"

The lady pauses, looking surprised. "Come again?"

"How did you work around your powers when pursuing a relationship?" Lucina rephrases. "How did you two court each other without your innate powers influencing the outcome."

Robin's eyes light up in understanding. "Ahh, I see. You're interested in someone aren't you?"

The princess flushes brightly. She never said _anything_ about that! How did Mother know!? "Wh-Wha-"

"It's rather obvious dear." The lady smiles. "Why else would you ask about how my _powers_ influenced us and not the story of our marriage itself?"

Lucina shakes her head. "You're amazing Mother."

The tactician chuckles. "So, you want to know the secret of managing our powers in a relationship hmm? Well here's my secret."

Lucina leans in eagerly.

"I didn't even _think_ about my powers." Robin says simply.

The princess stares in shock. There's no way she's telling the truth. "Not at _all_?!"

"Well, I did at first." She admits. "If you don't know them at all I would advise first getting to know them with full concealment, but I'm assuming this is someone you're already familiar with?

Lucina nods.

"Let me be frank dear. If you're hoping for some way to nullify your powers, or hoping your partner will develop a resistance, that won't happen." Robin says bluntly. "Your powers will remain as potent as ever."

The princess's shoulders sag. That's not at all what she hoped to hear.

"The good part is that they don't _need_ to go away." The lady winks. "If you've already got a good relationship then there's no need to worry. Don't _abuse_ your abilities, but don't intentionally hide them either. As much as you might think you have to be careful you really don't. Those powers are a part of you, like it or not, so it's best any potential partner get used to them sooner than later."

The tactician leans forwards with a teasing grin.

"And besides, them being particularly attracted to you isn't a _bad_ thing. I, for one, think it's cute how my husband still loses his train of thought just because I smile at him, or that I can still make him tremble with a touch."

"Mother! I don't need to hear _that_!" Lucina groans in embarrassment.

"But you did." Robin shoots back, her expression surprisingly serious. "If I didn't tell you the upsides, you'd always think of your powers as a negative thing. Your powers are what you make of them. Keep in mind your influence, yes, but if you never relax your self-imposed restraints you'll never _live_. You'll exist in a prison of your own making. Influencing others isn't always a bad thing dear. Public speaking is influencing others and it's far from immoral. Use your judgement dear, and trust yourself. _I_ certainly trust you to use your powers well."

"That's because you're my mother."

"Maybe, but it's true all the same."

There's a moment of silence as Lucina takes it all in. Robin calmly takes a sip of her drink, watching her daughter with faint pride. She's very mature for someone who's not even a full adult yet. Only seventeen and she has more sense than some of the current Shepherds.

Well, maybe it's not fair to compare her to Gaius. That man is a child in all but appearance.

"Another question." The blue-haired girl says quietly. "Feeding. What am I supposed to _do_ about it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I... I try to feed from people I don't know." She says slowly, trying to arrange her thoughts. "Bandits if possible, if not then villagers. If there's a drunk I'll feed from them, they won't even notice the extra exhaustion."

Robin nods in agreement. She remembers her own days of feeding off random drunks in the streets. "They taste _awful_."

"I know." Lucina grimaces. "Erm... but is that the right thing to do? I don't like the thought of feeding off someone innocent."

"It's not like there's much of a choice dear." The tactician reminds her. "In fact, I'd consider it a _good_ thing for there to not always be a criminal in arms reach."

"But feeding off someone who doesn't deserve it just feels... _wrong_."

"Until you have someone to feed from who knows who you are, there _isn't_ really a good choice." Robin admits reluctantly. "All you can do is minimize the damage of your feedings. I too fed off drunks for while, and when I was finally forced to feed on a friend I chose your father."

"Why?"

"Because he was the easiest to get alone." Robin sighs. "It was a practical choice, not a moral or emotional one. But even if I could chose based on emotion I'd have chosen him anyways. If I _have_ to kiss a friend, I'd rather it be someone I like."

"But you're basically assaulting him."

"True, but it's either that or _die_ , and I'd like to think my best friend wouldn't hate me for wanting to _live_. Besides, it's hardly unpleasant for them, especially if you add a bit of extra magic."

###

So she just takes off her hood right? Don't make a big deal about it, she should just do it as she walks in.

Gods this reminds her of feeding. She's always walked in without her hood on when she planned on feeding from him. Except this time she _isn't_ going to do that, so it'll be the first time he actually remembers seeing her without her hood on for any extended period of time.

Lucina is more nervous then she should be, they're just doing inventory! This isn't even something serious, she's not _proposing_ she's just walking into a tent!

" _Stop thinking about it, you'll only make this worse._ " The princess scolds herself. " _Walk in, pull your hood down, do your job, leave. Don't make a big deal about it. It's just a hood._ "

She does not feel convinced whatsoever, but that's enough of a pep talk to get herself to walk in the damn tent. She glances around quickly to make sure no one else is there but Laurent, and there isn't, so she nervously pulls off her hood and makes her way over to him.

"Starting without me I see." She says calmly as she can.

"Apologies my liege, but I figured both of us would appreciate getting this finished as soon as possible." The mage says. He doesn't look away from the swords he's inspecting. "If you wouldn't mind counting the provisions and then the training weapons, I'd be much obliged."

Lucina isn't sure if she's relieved or disappointed that he doesn't look away from his work. Still, she has a job to do. She picks up her own paper and quill and starts counting the items he pointed her to.

It takes a dozen minutes or so to count everything. Most of Lucina's time is spent on the food figuring out how much of each different thing they have. In the end the only thing she concludes is that they probably need more fruits (which she notes in the margins of the report).

"I'm finished!" She calls.

"As am I." The mage mutters, jotting down a number of small notes. He finally turns to face her, but he barely reacts to seeing her without her hood up. The only indication of his surprise is that he blinks twice in rapid succession before quickly moving his eyes to focus on a spot just to the side of her head.

He's unflappable. That's why she looked up to him after all.

"I'll bring these to the quartermaster." Laurent says, accepting the sheet of paper from Lucina. He gives a small bow and says. "Good day Milady." Before walking away.

Lucina shouldn't feel giddy over a small success like this, but she does. It went well, he didn't question her, it's a start.

It's a tiny step in the grand scheme of things, but compared to the constant self-restraint she imposed on herself before she may as well have jumped a chasm by doing this. She feels just as accomplished.

It will be nice to eventually share her secret with someone she cares about... but not yet. That can come in time. For now she looks forward to finally being able to act on her crush without thinking badly of herself for doing so...

...just as soon as she figures out how this whole 'courting' thing works. There wasn't exactly time for it back in her world. Maybe Mother can help with that too.

* * *

 **Stopping here or else this will go on for another several thousand words. This chapter is already 6004 to begin with.**

 **For future uses of succubi I'm probably going to tone them down a bit. Both this chapter and Succubus Robin have showcased the absurdly powerful variant of succubi, but they lend themselves to rather narrow storytelling with having to constantly hide themselves. If I use succubi again I think I'll limit their innate abilities to not be so overwhelming but still present. After all the fact that they seduce everyone around them is part of the fun of writing them, I can't get rid of that entirely!**

* * *

 **Mram99** **:** Oh I'm not done with Pokemon Fire Emblem yet. That's getting finished before the second generation replacement happens.

 **Darkness is complete** **:** Filed under ideas for _The Robin Variable_.

 **Invisible Prince** **:** Believe it or not I already had plans for a quirk AU story. That's the 'quirkverse' I mentioned in the author's note.

I love playing around with size, I'll remember these.

 **Ren :** So would I, but I think the story is good as it is. If someone has an idea for a continuation they're more than welcome to write it, but I think _I_ have done what I can with that idea.


	8. Pokemon in Fire Emblem 4

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening nor Pokemon, all rights to their owners.**

 **You know what I'm going to say. Second generation replacement comes after all this pokemon stuff is done with.**

* * *

"Facade!" Frederick commands as he levels his lance. Stoutland growls, glowing with an orange outline, and pushes through it's poison into a headlong charge.

Despite her armor the captain of the guard is totally bowled over by their strength. Avalugg fares little better against Sully and Rapidash, and is defeated by a devastating Flare Blitz.

"I yield, I yield!" The captain gasps. Blood flecks from her lips as she speaks. "Men! Stand down!"

The response is instant. Within seconds the Feroxi guard has stopped fighting and the Shepherds cautiously follow suit. Lissa and Audino quickly start healing people, and Altaria uses Heal Bell to deal with the poison dished out by Avalugg's Toxic.

"Well, that's something." Robin says brightly. She offers a hand to the bulky feroxi man Absol had pinned to the floor a moment ago, but he pushes himself up and glares at her as he walks off to join his fellow soldiers. "Nice job Absol."

"Ab." The pokemon grunts in slight pain. It accepts Lissa's healing and breathes a sigh of relief. "Absol…"

The Shepherds are quickly let inside the fort and out of the wind. It's still cold in there, but the fires help to take the temperature from frigid to just chilly. Most of the pokemon (and people) don't enjoy it of course but fire and grass pokemon fare particularly poorly in cold weather. As such Rapidash and Amoonguss retreat to their pokeballs as quickly as they can.

Sawsbuck seems to be fine though. Despite being grass type it seems just fine in the cold, and it's chest fur is slowly turning whiter and fluffier for warmth ever since the Shepherds entered the snowy reaches of Ferox. The season pokemon is certainly living up to its name.

"I'll send a messenger on ahead to announce your presence." Rami, the captain of the guard, says to Chrom. The healers patched her up quickly, but there's still a massive dent in her armor from where Stoutland slammed into her. "I can send an escort along with you to the capital if you wish."

"No, we'll be fine. The Shepherds are more than capable of defending themselves and finding their way." Chrom says as politely as possible.

"That they are! I've felt that competence first hand." Rami chuckles. Inwardly, Robin is glad that the Feroxi didn't take offense to the beating she took. "Stay for a meal before you leave, the lot of you look half frozen."

Frederick is about to say no, but Robin jumps in before the man can speak. "Yes please! Gods I could use some hot food!"

"Couldn't we all!" Rami laughs. "I'll get the cooks right on it tactician! That way your knight can stop scowling and you can leave sooner than later."

Lissa rubs that in Frederick's face for the next two hours. The knight insists he isn't pouting, despite obviously being disappointed that they aren't already on their way.

###

Fire pokemon don't like cold weather. This isn't exactly a surprise. What _is_ a surprise is being greeted at the door of the Feroxi palace by an Infernape with a thick coat of fur. It shows the Shepherds inside, and when they're all in the stone building it closes the door and leans against it with a cocky grin.

"Well, it's not everyday we get foreign royalty here!" A dark-skinned woman in red hero armor calls as she enters the hall. Her blonde hair is tied back into a ponytail, and her brown eyes scan them unafraid. "And his hodgepodge group of companions too huh? I'll admit, I expected the fabled Shepherds to look more professional."

"And we expected border guards to do their jobs and actually determine friend from foe, but we don't always get what we expect, do we?" Robin chirps. Her words are sarcastic, but her expression and tone are friendly. Chrom and Frederick instantly tense up, expecting this to devolve into a diplomatic incident very quickly.

To their relief, the woman laughs loudly and grins at the tactician. "Well said tactician! I'm Flavia by the way, East Khan. It's good to see one of you is familiar with Feroxi diplomacy!" She walks over to her throne and takes a seat on the fur-adorned chair. "Now, why are you lot here? I'm pretty sure I know already, but I want to hear it from you."

"We need your support to combat Plegia." Chrom says. He doesn't bother with the compliments and whatnot that usually start noble negotiations seeing as Robin could borderline insult Flavia without issue.

"I figured as much. Alright, I'll get straight to the point: what can you give me in return?" The Khan asks. "You can't expect me to put my troops' lives on the line for nothing."

"Of course." Chrom says nervously. This is the main thing he was worried about. Ulike Ylisse or Plegia Ferox doesn't have any major deficiencies that they need to trade for. Chrom is crossing his fingers that his proposal will be worth enough for all this. "Ylisse is prepared teach Ferox about irrigation, and new farming technologies that have yet to be shared outside of our country."

Now, Ferox has no explicit need for better farming technology. As a country where it snows eight months a year most food is gotten by hunting. _However_ that's not to say the southernmost reaches of the country (where snow is present for only four or five months) doesn't have farms, and the extra food yield could help the rest of the country immensely by helping making hunting, which can be inconsistent, less of a main provider for the country.

"Farming huh? You know we mostly hunt here, right?" Flavia asks calmly.

"I'm also aware that Ferox has plenty of farms in its lower reaches." Chrom counters. "Are you telling me extra food yield, _permanently_ , wouldn't be extremely helpful?"

The two stare each other down. Robin can see sweat start to bead on the back of Chrom's neck as he struggles to keep a straight face. Flavia is the picture of calm composure. It would seem despite her boisterous attitude she's fully capable of keeping herself under control.

Eventually Flavia closes her eyes and chuckle. "Well, that's a fine point. I can't deny it would be a big boon to get some more food. Hunting ain't always the most reliable after all, and it ain't unusual for people to lose livestock because they don't got enough food to go around."

Chrom swells with relief. He was so worried-

" _However,_ I ain't the ruling Khan right now." Flavia says, momentarily dashing his hopes. "I'll send a message to Basilio and put in a good word. The old man isn't stupid, he'll see the benefit in this trade. We've been dying to take a crack at Plegia for a while now, they've been poking at our borders and he'd love to give 'em a crack on the head as much as me."

The messenger will take two weeks to get to Basilio and back. The Shepherds can't exactly leave before getting a response, so they're forced to stay nearby. Flavia graciously lets them stay in the castle in the meantime. They even do a few missions for the Khan; partially to pass time and partially because Chrom figures extra goodwill between them can't hurt. The Feroxi villages are awfully surprised to see a Ylissian military squad show up at their doorstep, but killing off bandits and suppressing Risen quickly gains the villagers' respect.

Picking up Donnel and Rockruff was a pleasant surprise. Chrom was _very_ unsure about recruiting a Feroxi into the Shepherds, there was doubt as to if Flavia would even allow it, but the Khan was more than willing to let the kid join them. She joked it was part of her contribution to the cause and her own gesture of goodwill that she trusted them to train him well.

Basilio's response arrived with a surprise. While Flavia giving them Donnel was coincidence, the stony-faced swordsman that arrived with the message was an _intended_ gift by the west Khan.

Lon'qu is stoic and somewhat cold, but he doesn't complain about being part of their group. He nods politely (if stiffly) when greeted, and listens to everything Robin and Chrom have to tell him. He doesn't seem particularly fond of Lissa's fawning though.

###

"Prince, you do realize this building only has fifteen bedrooms right? It wasn't made for a whole platoon." The quartermaster, Emmet, says dryly. "If you want to keep recruiting people at this pace you're going to have to pay for an expansion. With those two staying here we only have two rooms left, and that's _not_ including the rooms you, Frederick, and Lissa use when you stay here."

"I know, I know." Chrom smiles sheepishly. "I'll pay for an expansion."

"And I suppose _I'm_ organizing it." The man sighs. To someone less familiar with him, the scowl he wears might be mistaken for genuine anger. It's not. Chrom knows he's annoyed at worse, and indifferent at best. "How many more rooms do you want?"

"Double what we have right now."

"Fine." The man sharply turns around and stalks off back to the supply room without another word. His wooden leg clicks loudly on the stone floor as he walks, and is only muffled when he closes the door behind him.

"Lovely guy." Robin chirps when the quartermaster is out of earshot. "I can see why you hired him."

"Emmet's been with us since the Shepherds were first created." Chrom chuckles. "He's proven himself reliable, and was invaluable during our early days when it was just me, Lissa, Frederick, Vaike, and him."

"He fights?"

"He used to." There's a solemn note in the Prince's voice. "But that's not my story to tell."

Robin doesn't push the issue further. It's not her place to push a sensitive subject, not yet at least. She's still only been a part of this group for little over a month.

"With that out of the way we should go to court." Chrom says after a moment of quiet. "They'll want to talk to us about the new alliance with Ferox."

"Right."

###

"Behold my fated companions! Yonder capital of Ferox is in sight!" Owain cries. "No longer will we need to wander the frigid forests!"

"About time." Brady grumbles. He peeks out of the wagon to see the castle on the horizon. "I thought we'd never find someplace familiar."

"W-We need to stock up on food and horse feed for the journey to Ylisse." Noire reminds them.

The small group had found a small village after their first night in the woods. From there they made their way to a slightly larger town, bought a cart and horses with the money they took off the Risen they'd killed, and then started to make their way to Ferox's capital.

"Take heart my friends! Within a month we will be returned to our home in Ylisse." Owain says cheerfully. "Surely our some of our friends will have returned as well; our merry band will be whole again!"

"Joy." Brady says sarcastically. "I couldn't wait to hear Severa's snarking again, or Cynthia's constant shouting, or see Inigo flirt with everything that moves, or-"

"Brady, c-can we focus on the positives please?" Noire squeaks. "We get to see our parents again."

"Er, yeah. Sorry." He sighs. "It'll be good to see em' alive again…"

* * *

 **Relatively boring chapter. Plot stuff.**

* * *

 **Wernher von Braun** **:** Maybe. I do like playing around with succubus powers. That's a good point for female Morgan, she _would_ be a good example…

 **Darkness is complete : **I _suppose_ those ideas could work, but I'll admit I'm not very enthusiastic about them. Definitely low priority.


	9. Pokemon in Fire Emblem 5

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening nor Pokemon, all rights to their owners.**

 **Bla bla bla. Second generation replacement comes after all this pokemon stuff is done with. You know the drill.**

* * *

"Y'know, I was expecting y'all to run if an actual fight broke out." The merchant remarks as they clean up the last of the bandits. "Considering how young y'all look."

"Then why did you hire us?" Severa asks sharply as she wipes her blade clean.

"Intimidation." The man says with a shrug. "Two fully armored swordsmen and a breaker? That's good deterrent."

"And if you got attacked by a large group?" Inigo asks curiously.

"Then I'd give them what they wanted and be on ma way." He shrugs. "It wouldn't matter if my guards were skilled if that happened. Three or four guards ain't no match for two dozen bandits anyhow."

Severa looks like she's going to comment again and Mawile looks ready to join in, but Inigo gives them a pointed look and Sawk gives a quick shake of his head and the two girls reluctantly stay quiet.

"A-Are we sure we're safe?" Yarne asks. He's still standing upright in his Watchog form, squinting at the top of the dunes for any signs of movement.

"You tell us. Your eyes are the best." Inigo grunts.

The three kids and their pokemon have made steady progress across Plegia from where they appeared out of the portal. They found a town during their walk at night, and the next day they spoke with this merchant who agreed to hire them as guards for his trip to Ylisse.

They've made good progress so far. It turns out they were dropped smack dab in the center of Plegia, but now they're only a day's march from the ylisse/plegia border. Sure, Ylisstol is on the other side Ylisse entirely, but at least they'll be in Ylisse and not Plegia.

"What if they're invisible though?" Yarne asks quietly.

Severa sneers at that. "Oh yes, bandits are well known for having pokemon that know Phantom Force _._ Last time I checked, Mightyena and Vibrava are both _masters_ of that."

"Maybe they had Banette or Mismagius." Inigo counters. "Those are known to live in Plegia sometimes... though I'll admit it's unlikely the bandits had any. From what I'm aware dark mages are more partial to ghost types than infantry, and this group had no dark mages."

"Alright…" Yarne murmurs uncertainly. He returns to human form and shakes his body violently to rid himself of the sand that lodged in his fur.

"What are you worried about anyways? You know Foresight." Severa snorts. "You can _see_ invisible things."

"I-I'm just nervous okay!"

"No shit?"

"Severa…"

"Shut it Inigo. He's being irrational."

"You're not known for your rationality either." Inigo shoots back. "Who was it that tries to waste our money on petty things like dresses when we're almost broke? Oh, right, _you_."

Severa flushes in anger. "You-! You-!"

"Are right? Yeah, I know." Inigo huffs. "So stop talking, you're no better. At least Yarne's fault is _trying to_ _keep us alive_."

The girl falls silent and glares fiercely at the boy. It's rare that Inigo has seen her so furious but also so quiet. Usually she'd be raging by this point; she's not exactly known for her self-control.

The merchant watches all this quietly, and Inigo catches the man nodding while he's scolding Severa. When the resume on their way, with Severa taking point several steps ahead so as to not have to look at them, the merchant leans out of his cart to whisper to Inigo.

"You really know how to keep your men in line, don't ya?" He asks with a grin.

"I've known her for long enough to know to keep her under control." Inigo says tiredly. Severa is annoying at the best of times, he doesn't know how _Noire_ of all people puts up with her.

"You've got the markings of a good leader boy." The man compliments. "Part o' being a good boss is knowing what buttons to push to get people to listen to ya."

"That sounds manipulative."

"It sure is, but if it keeps everyone alive and working properly then are you really gonna argue?"

Inigo can't say he disagrees with that.

###

"Are we close…?" Nah moans.

"Still another two days of walking Nah." Laurent says calmly.

"Ugh."

"Why are _you_ whining?" Kjelle interjects. "You're tough! Laurent is the wimpy one. If anything _he_ should be complaining because he's exhausted and not you!"

"But I'm _bored_." Nah complains. "We've been marching for days with nothing to do! Even a Risen attack would be welcome at this point!"

"Really." Kjelle says flatly.

"Okay no, not really." The girl sighs. "I just can't think of anything to talk about. You're both so… narrow."

"Excuse you." Laurent murmurs, frowning. "I'll have you know I have a wide range of interests."

"Are they all sciences?"

"Yes."

"That's the problem."

"And I'm a training junkie." Kjelle admits outright. She has specific interests and she's well aware of it. "I guess I see the problem."

Nah's mouth twitches up into a self-satisfied smirk.

"But honestly, just deal with it." Kjelle says curtly, shutting the girl down. "I rarely have anyone to talk to and Laurent spends half his time making tactics but you don't hear us complaining."

Nah's smirk turns into a frown, and she doesn't say anything else until dinner. Even when Shieldon accidentally bumps into her and sends her tumbling flat on her face the dragon refuses to comment.

###

"Who's a good dragon?" Morgan coos as he nuzzles Minerva's scaly nose. The old pokemon returns the gesture in kind. Charizards, especially the old ones, have a reputation of being cranky and quick to anger. Minerva is an odd one out and has mellowed considerably in her old age; she was already relatively calm when she was young and with time teaching her to restrain her strength she's become just as gentle as Cherche always claimed she was.

"Eevee..." The small pokemon has curled up in a ball against the old pokemon's stomach and is watching his master tiredly. "Eeeeee."

"Let them rest." Gerome barks, shaking the ladle at him. Morgan still thinks it's funny how someone so serious is cooking them all dinner. "Go bother Cynthia. She's just as… _energetic_ as you."

If Morgan is aware what Gerome just said is supposed to be snark, he doesn't show it. He bounds off to find Cynthia like a excitable dog or a child with a short attention span.

Okay, Morgan _is_ a child, he's fourteen. Maybe it's unfair to use that as a criticism.

"Woooah!" The little boy gasps when Cythia goes soaring overhead on Tranquill, as if he's never seen anyone flying on the back of a bird before (which he has, _several_ times, for the last _week_ ). "Can I try!?" He shouts.

"Sure!"

Gerome knows full well that Tranquill can only hold one person at a time. He absently wonders if he should have a concoction ready for when Morgan inevitably falls.

###

"Oh… who is that?" Robin asks blankly.

"Did we never introduce the two of you?" Chrom says as they march to the border. "Maribelle is Lissa closest friend. She's the daughter to the Duke of Themis."

The tactician gives the prince an empty look, and the blue-haired boy grimaces. "You have no idea who that is either, do you?"

"Nope."

"Okay, remind me to arrange a politics instructor for you when we get back to Ylisstol." He says while massaging his forehead in self-annoyance. "Of _course_ you wouldn't know anything. You're an amnesiac…"

"Yay, politics." Robin snorts.

"I know." Chrom agrees. "It's annoying."

"That's a poor attitude for a prince to hold." Frederick remarks.

"Luca."

"Just because I'm royalty doesn't mean I _enjoy_ court." The blue-haired boy responds dryly.

"Absol." The disaster pokemon says quietly, reminding Robin of something.

"Ah, right, uh, where are we meeting exactly? Should we expect a fight?"

"No, we are on a diplomatic mission." Emmeryn says firmly. The pointed look Chrom shoots Robin tells her that the Exalt is probably wrong though.

"Even so, a backup plan can't hurt." Robin says. "Where are we meeting?"

"Death valley." Lissa says grimly.

"Lissa…" Emmeryn scolds softly. "Don't call it that. It's called the central border pass Robin. It is a large road going up a hill between two larger hills."

"It's also where thousands of people died in the last war." Lissa adds. "Hence Death Valley."

"Our father ran his troops into the choke point between the hills in a bid to break through the Plegian lines. It worked, but a quarter of his army died in the attack." Chrom murmurs.

The exalt sighs, clearly not liking this discussion. Instead she (somewhat) changes the subject. "I shall give you some maps made for you on our return to Ylisstol. If you are to command the Shepherds, you could do with knowing important landmarks."

"Thank you." Robin nods.

"Milady, we're coming up on the border pass now." Philia murmurs as she mounts Swanna. "I must take to the air."

"Of course Philia. Stay safe."

"I shall endeavor to do so." The lady says flatly.

The white bird Pokemon beats its mighty wings and Philia and her mount rise into the air. Robin gives the signal, a single shot of thunder, and Sumia does the same while the rest of the Shepherds take a defensive position around the royal family.

As they get closer Robin can spot Plegian soldiers up on the hillsides. Axemen and wyvern riders are everywhere, but Robin can also spot some dark mages and a mercenary or two.

The people that stand out the most are the flamboyant pale man in a jester's outfit with a crown, and the sexy dark-skinned lady in the skin-tight black… dress? Can that be called a dress, or is a bathing suit because of all the skin it shows? Meh, Robin will call it a dress.

"So, uh…" The tactician mutters, pointing at the two figures. "I'm guessing they're important?"

"The man is Gangrel, the leader of Plegia. The other is new to me." Chrom responds curtly. He's gripping his sword tightly with a grimace on his face. "Maribelle is next to them. She's the blonde girl in the pink outfit."

"Right…" Robin murmurs, already formulating a plan. "Axmen, mercenaries, wyvern riders, sloped surface… okay. Absol."

"Ab?"

"Pass a message onto Miriel, Virion, Alakazam, and Starmie. Tell them to be ready provide suppression attacks near Maribelle in case we have to evacuate her."

"Sol." The disaster pokemon slinks through the Shepherds to locate the recipients.

"Let me try diplomacy first." Emmeryn says with an almost pleading tone. Despite her wishes everyone around her is preparing for combat.

"Of course." Robin nods absently. She doesn't even look like she's paying attention to the exalt. "I'm just making sure we have a plan is all."

"Blissey." The happiness pokemon coos and pats its companion reassuringly on the arm. "Bliss, Blissey!"

"Yes, of course." Emmeryn sighs and stands as straight as she can. She schools her features. "This will go fine. Gangrel will listen to reason."

She pointedly ignores the frown on her brother's face and the way Frederick purses his lips upon hearing her words.

* * *

 **Short chapter this time, not much of importance happening here.**

* * *

 **Darkness is complete** **:** Uh… sure. I can probably think of something…

 **Invisible : **Well Morgan has an Eevee, sorry to disappoint. Everyone only has one pokemon for simplicity's sake. One pokemon for everyone already gives me twice the number of characters to deal with, I can't handle _seven times_ the characters.


	10. Zerg Robin

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening nor Starcraft, all rights to the owners.**

 **We'll get back to Pokemon after this, and we'll do second generation replacement after that. For now: aliens… and by aliens I mean the Zerg. I'm not the most well-versed in the technicalities of zerg biology, so pardon if some things are inaccurate here.**

 **This was requested by Darkness is complete, and it was a** _ **lot**_ **harder than I expected. This is my fourth take.**

* * *

Now Donnel isn't stupid. He learned early on that the outlandish rumors that spread around his village on a regular basis were just that: rumors. There wasn't actually a hag livin' in the forest cursin' the crops, there wasn't actually a river spirit makin' everyone sick with bad water, and the Anna that passed through wasn't actually a devil in disguise.

She was a thief, not a demon. His ma always said to never trust an Anna. They're all greedy… well, Donnel ain't allowed to say the other part.

So when Donnel heard that there was monsters in the woods he payed it no mind. Maybe there's a wolf or a bear prowlin' around, but those ain't gonna bother ya unless you poke at 'em. They're smarter than to mess with humans. We got pointy weapons after all; better to go after our pigs or chickens.

You can image the village boy was surprised to find a giant insect in his animal trap. It's the size of a large dog and has giant claws as big as Donnel's forearm… but it still got it's leg stuck in the boar trap.

Normally at this point Donnel would stick the thing in the head with a spear and put it out of it's misery… but he genuinely isn't sure if he can even eat or kill this thing, and he's pretty sure that thing has armor on its forehead so there's no guarantee his bronze spear will even go through the carapace.

"Alrighty then…" Donnel says to himself. The creature isn't moving all that much, but the villager has no illusions about its ability to kill him with those claws and sharp teeth. Does he let it go? Does he try to kill it anyways? "Oh lordy. Sorry you… scary insect thing. Where'd you even come from anyways? No way you're from around here."

The boy tentatively steps towards the thing, still clutching his spear. It's eyes are already latched onto him and tracks his every movement.

"I'mma just cut yer rope little buddy." The villager says nervously. He extends his spear towards the thick rope tied to the creature's leg, and starts clumsily sawing at it from a distance. It takes a few minutes, but eventually the rope snaps and the giant insect is free. It tests out the injured leg, ruffles it's undersized wings, and darts off into the forest.

Donnel breathes a sigh of relief as he moves to reset the trap. Looks like the rumors were true, there _are_ monsters in the forest. At least it didn't charge at him.

Resetting the trap takes a few minutes. He has to pull the the branch back into place and attach a new rope and set more bait. It's a delicate process, which only adds to the time needed. He's so absorbed in his work that he doesn't notice someone watching him until he turns around to grab the bait and hits his head against theirs.

"Sorry there, didn't see…" Donnel trails off when he sees exactly who he's talking to.

She's female, and looks _mostly_ human. She has sinewy, burgundy-colored skin, purple eyes, hair that looks like a couple dozen insect legs sprouting from her head, and has two giant bone wings sprouting from her back.

She's also accompanied by about six of the same insect monsters Donnel freed just a few minutes ago. The villager, now terrified, puts on a wide smile and prays to Naga this lady isn't some sort of grim reaper. "W-Well howdy! Sorry about trappin one of your… pets? I was tryin' ta catch me a boar."

The lady looks curiously at him. "How does it work?"

"Sorry?"

"The trap, how does it work?"

"Oh." Donnel feels his heart rate start to lower a bit and it stops pounding in his chest. She's _not_ here to kill him. "Well here, lemme show ya from the start."

It's a bit nerve-wracking to work with giant insects watching him, but Donnel manages to focus on his work and show the lady how to make a boar trap. She nods silently as he explains every step.

"Wow." She says at the end. "For something so low-tech, that's surprisingly well thought out."

"Well… thanks I think." Donnel says nervously. "So, if ya don't mind me askin', who are ya?"

"Me? Oh, I'm Robin." She sticks out her hand and the villager tentatively shakes it. Her grip is _strong_ , and Donnel can see muscles firmly defined in her arm as she shakes. "I'm sorta lost actually. Would you mind telling me what planet this is?"

"Planet?" Donnel blinks. "Golly, well we call it Mundus."

"Erm… what sector is that?"

"Pardon? What's a sector?"

"Oh dear. Okay, has anyone on this planet ever been to space?"

"Maybe Lady Naga has, but aside from that I ain't so sure."

"Who is this Naga?"

"She the goddess o' life of course." Donnel says.

"Right." Robin says. The worry steadily growing in her face has grown to something resembling panic. "Right, okay, this is fine… totally fine…"

"Y'alright? You look a bit scared there miss Robin."

The burgundy girl gives a nervous, slightly hysterical laugh. "Oh yes, just fine. I'm stranded on a technologically deficient planet of terrans, out of range to contact a nearby fleet, and maybe with fanatical protoss still chasing me. This is _fine_."

"W-Well I don't pretend to totally understand ya, but I'm sure there's a way you could get help." Donnel says as convincingly as possible. "Why, the Exalt loves helpin' people. I'm sure she could lend ya a hand."

"Does she have a spaceship?"

"Well no… but if you know roughly how ta _make_ one I'm sure we could figure it out." The villager offers.

"No I…" Robin pauses. "No _I_ don't, but the swarm does. A leviathan, even a small one, would take a lot of resources to morph, but I suppose it's possible."

"A what?"

"A giant Zerg. The size of… a lot of castles." Robin says, lacking a better analogy that the boy would understand. "It's a really big space boat."

"Well that sounds like a plan then." Donnel says with a smile. "We'll find ya a way to the capital, and see if we can't get yer case brought to the Exalt."

"Right."

"For now though, uh, golly?" Donnel murmurs. "Well, you better come with me back to the house. Gotta try and explain this to my Ma… somehow."

###

"So this… _lady_ needs help getting to _space_?" Donnel's mother says disbelievingly to her son.

"Yes." Robin says, standing tall. She's not sure if she should be intimidating this woman or impressing her. "I would like his assistance."

"Why? Why _him_?" The lady says suspiciously.

Robin grimaces in embarrassment. "He's the first person who hasn't screamed or tried to stab me on sight."

"I-I see." Donnel's mother swallows thickly. "And _those_ things are…?"

"Zerglings, and a drone." Robin motions to the giant insects Donnel had seen before and a floating lobster thing with fleshy wings.

"Right…" The lady sighs. Donnel fully expects his mother to say no after all of this, but to his surprise she says. "I've always intended for him to visit Ylisstol at some point. He can go with you, but it's _your_ duty to keep him safe, understand young lady?"

"Yes ma'am." Robin says with a stiff bow. Inwardly though she's giddy. This feels like a _mission_ , the queen never gave her a mission because she was 'too young'.

She's three months old! She's plenty old enough for a mission. Zerglings are only a few _seconds_ old before they go out to fight! Broodmothers are only a few _minutes_ old before they command broods! She's totally old enough.

" _If Queen Zagara ever hears about this she'll be so impressed…_ " Robin thinks, hiding a smile. " _I can follow orders, and I can even get off this planet without her help!_ "

…

" _Okay, maybe I'd still like her to come pick me up. This is gonna take a_ _long_ _time on my own._ "

###

"So yer sayin' this little thing can turn into a building?" Donnel says in awe as he kneels down to the drone's level.

"Yep."

"And that building can make more of these things?"

"Yep."

"Woah… that's mighty impressive miss Robin."

"The zerg have learned how to multiply really quickly." Robin hums with a smirk. "We're kinda the best."

"I believe it!" Donnel smiles. "Golly, I can't wait to see all that."

"Neither can I." Robin sighs. "Then I can stop wearing clothes. How do terrans stand these things?"

Donnel's mother gave the Robin some actual clothes to wear because the girl was walking around with nothing on. Apparently zerg don't have clothes (which, Donnel supposes, considering they're all apparently space bugs that makes sense) but for Robin that's not exactly going to work because she's basically human, and Donnel highly doubts the guards are going to let some naked lady with bone wings into the palace.

It's highly doubtful they'll let _anyone_ with bone wings into the castle, but it's still a good idea to give Robin the best possible chance of getting in.

"We're sorta used to it." Donnel shrugs. "I mean, we wear 'em every day."

"That's so weird…"

"Says the girl from space with big ol' insects followin' her 'round." Donnel laughs.

"That's normal! I have zerglings guarding me all the time!"

"That's normal for _you_ ; not everyone else!"

###

"You sure you'll be fine out here?" Donnel asks with concern.

"Of course! I've slept in the forest a few nights before I found you. Plus, it's not like I can just walk into the village." Robin says. "It'll be fine."

"Well alrighty then." The boy says with a smile. "I'll come back here in the mornin' so stay safe miss Robin."

Robin watches her new friend walk into the village from her position at the edge of the forest. If it weren't for her bone wings she could probably follow him. Her clothes aren't enough to make her inconspicuous unfortunately, and they'd still have to explain her burgundy skin.

Oh well. She's used to the forest by now. She'll get to walk around a town when they get to the capital anyways. For now she needs to find somewhere to sleep for the night, and maybe have her zerglings hunt a few squirrels to eat.

She really does miss having creep to feed her troops. It's a pain to have to hunt things.

There's still a few hours before nightfall, so Robin spends it simply observing the town from a distance as her zerglings hunt. She watches travellers enter the town, often with wagons and animals in tow. The town guards quickly search the wagons before waving the travellers past.

Robin has learned from travelling with Donnel that terrans don't have good senses like she does. When the guards look her way they don't react whatsoever. She doubts they can see her, but she can see everything happening in high detail.

She can even see Donnel talking with someone in the town square and getting an apple to eat. Robin waves, though he obviously can't see her.

Hmm, those people are leaving so late in the day? Is there a town or village nearby? Ooh, that guy has a power suit. She thought Donnel said no one here had been to space… but why is he riding an animal? Isn't that inefficient? Why not a vulture bike?

And why is he travelling with an unarmored guy with a metal sword and a lady with a big wood stick with jewels on it? Are they performers? Why do they need guard?

Whatever. They can be weird if they want. It's not her problem.

A few minutes pass uneventfully, but eventually she notices a lot of men walking over a nearby hill. They're dirty, and they all have poorly-maintained weapons. Donnel's weapon is chipped and worn, but he keeps it clean unlike these people.

Robin wonders what they want with the village. Is there something special there everyone is trying to get? Donnel didn't mention anything.

Terrans are weird.

They're all running now, and taking out their weapons… okay. Robin doesn't know a lot about terran society, but she recognizes a charge when she sees it, and she will _not_ stand for the chance that Donnel will get injured. Staying hidden be damned.

The girl throws her cloak aside and starts running down the hill towards the village where the dirty men are just arriving. She calls telepathically for her zerglings, but they're just to make this quicker, Robin is confident she can take out these men by herself. She can see a fight break out between a few of them and the guards, which ends quickly as the guards are overwhelmed.

As soon as she judges she's in range, Robin jumps. Her wings flare out behind her and snap forward as she drops, and the spikes ends tear into the unfortunate men she lands on.

"What the hell is that?!" One of the dirty men shouts and points towards her. "Guile, Barry, we got some sorta monster here!"

The man raises his axe towards her, but she lashes out with her wing and impales him with one of the spiked tips. Two man run at her from behind, but she backhands them with her wing when she spins around and slashes their throats with claws that extend from her fingers.

If Robin remembers correctly, human fingernails aren't actually claws hidden in a skin covering, but they are for her.

The girl quickly remembers where she saw Donnel last, and runs over there. The town is absolutely infested with these bad guys, and Robin slashes at them evenever they get in range. She finds the spot where she say Donnel last, but he isn't here now.

Snarling, Robin glances about rapidly. Did he go into one of these buildings? Did he run away? No, it doesn't matter. The best way to make sure he stays safe is to kill _all_ of the people who attacked this town. She can worry about finding him _after_ the threat is gone.

Her eyes lock on the closest foe, and she lunges.

###

"This is madness…" Frederick grunts as he pulls his lance out of the brigands. "There are too many for this to be a simple outlaw band."

"Chrom, what's _that_?!" Lissa shrieks as she points to the town square. There's a burgundy-skinned woman with giant bone wings slashing apart brigands with reckless abandon. "And what are those?!" She shrieks again when a number of giant insects run past them and make leaping bites at their foes.

"I have no idea, but they're attacking the brigands." Chrom grimaces. "Let's focus on the brigands first, and then worry about these new creatures."

Most of the places they go they find bandit corpses, as the insect monsters have gotten there first. The men have deep bite wounds to their necks and chunks torn out of their chests, leaving no question as to what killed them.

With only a few fights of their own, the trio find the village clear of bandits and rush back to the center of town to find the strange girl still there and all the insect monsters roaming around her. Her eyes immediately snap to the three of them and she bares disturbingly sharp teeth.

"You! Are you bad guys too?" She snaps. Her wings flare out threateningly and Chrom notes the dried blood on the tips.

"No! No we're not!" Lissa squeaks in fear. "We're good guys! Promise!"

"A better question is who, and what, are _you_?" Frederick asks sternly.

"I'm Robin of the Zerg, and _you_ are going to help me find Donnel!"

"I-I'm right here miss Robin." A heavily accented voice calls tentatively. "Uh… are all the bandits gone?"

"Donnel! Yes, they're gone, and you're fine?" The girl instantly looks less threatening as her wings come down and she quickly moves to stand protectively next to the... ordinary village boy. All the insect monsters follow the girl and calmly patrol around their legs, paying the trio no mind.

"Yeah, just fine." The boy says. "Uh, everyone, it's fine to come out."

"With those things still here!?" Someone hisses from inside the building.

"They're mighty friendly." Donnel calls back. "I've been travellin' with them for a few days and I've been just fine."

"Oh…" Lissa murmurs quietly. "So she _is_ a nice person?"

"I heard that!" Robin huffs and glares at the cleric. "Of course I'm nice! I'm great!"

"And these _things_ are tame?" Frederick asks with a grimace.

"My _zerglings_ listen to my telepathic commands, so yes, they're tame." The girl says. "And who are _you_ all?"

"I'm prince Chrom of Ylisse." The blue-haired boy says as cordially as he can.

The village boy (Donnel?) quickly whispers in the Robin's ear, and she immediately perks up. "Wait, you're related to the Exalt, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"I need to talk with her!" Robin says intensely. "I need to go to space."

Chrom isn't sure if he heard that right, but the look Donnel has on, one of begging, suggests that Robin is actually telling the truth.

"Well… erm…" Chrom coughs in confusion. "I'm not quite sure if she has a way to do that."

"I don't need _her_ to make the spaceship, I can do that! I just need a lot of space!" Robin begs.

"Is this some sort of joke?" Frederick asks with a disbelieving scowl.

"I'm afraid not yer knightliness sir. She's dead serious." Donnel says. "An' if she can do half the things she claims she can do, she might actually be able to make one o' these spaceship things."

"I see." Chrom says, thoroughly confused. "Erm… well we were heading back towards the capital anyways. You're welcome to join us for the trip."

"Really?!" Robin sounds incredibly enthusiastic.

"Gosh, well thanks yer lordship." Donnel says in obvious awe.

"Just Chrom is fine Donnel." The prince sighs. He has a feeling this is going to be a long trip back.

###

"You certainly pick up interesting people captain." Sully mutters as she eyes Robin and her zerglings suspiciously.

"My dearest Sully, it would not do to be ungrateful of those who help us. Why, without lady Robin there's no saying if we would have survived this encounter." Virion scolds.

"Shut it Ruffles." The cavalier grumbles. "We're trading one type of monster for the another."

"Yeah, you get the awesome ones instead of the dead ones." Robin brags. She's totally oblivious to the fact that Sully is complaining about her instead of complimenting her. "Just wait until I get to set up a hatchery. We'll be even more awesome and powerful then!"

"Right…" Sully mutters.

###

"Oh my…" Emmeryn murmurs. "Space you say?"

"Yes! And I need a lot of space to get minerals and synthesize vespene so I can make a leviathan!" Robin says with absolute conviction.

"Well… we _may_ be able to provide you with land." Emmeryn says cautiously. "However, there is an issue."

"What?"

"Others will frown upon me freely giving you land for no recompense. Perhaps there is something you can offer in return to assuage their nervousness?"

"Hmm…" Robin purses her lips. "Oh! I can give you troops!"

"Troops?"

"I can make more zerglings!" She gestures to the insect monsters that patiently stand by her side. "And with a bit of time, I can provide stronger troops too! Roaches, hydralisks, mutalisks, maybe even brood lords!"

"And will they listen to us?" Emmeryn asks nervously.

"Well sorta." Robin frowns. "See, I'm in control of _all_ zerg in my immediate area, but I can extend the range of that control with overlords, and if I make queens they can direct troops in my absence to a limited degree."

"So what you're saying is that without you your… _zerg…_ are a blunt instrument." Chrom says. "But they shouldn't turn against us?"

"No, they won't. Even without overlords they have a limited connection to myself, but will be little more than an animal to point in a direction and let loose. Any control beyond that will be lost." Robin murmurs.

The exalt leans back in her chair to think. She doesn't want troops, she doesn't want to accept the possibility that she might need them and that negotiations with Plegia will fail, but at the same time she knows it would be foolish to leave Ylisse undefended.

And if those reserve warriors happen to be insect monsters, so be it.

"I agree to this deal. Ylisse will provide with a large plot of land and materials within reason to help with the construction of your leviathan, and in turn you will provide our country with defenders should it prove necessary." Emmeryn says with as much authority she can muster. "Donnel."

"Y-Yes yer exaltedness?"

"You will be responsible for monitoring Robin's operation, and relaying messages when she cannot. If her zerg cannot speak, you will be her second voice."

"O-Of course yer ladyshipness." The villager says with a nervous bow. "Oh golly…"

"And you will be paid to do so." The exalt says in a softer tone. "It would not do for a ruler to let work go unrewarded."

Donnel's shoulders sag in relief. "Mighty kind of ya. I was worried how Ma would fare without me, but now I can send some gold back to 'er."

Emmeryn hides a smile under her stoic ruler facade. "Good. Now, if that is settled. Chrom, I require you for council. Lissa, please provide rooms for Robin and Donnel in the Shepherd's barrack for the time being."

"Sure Sis!" Lissa chirps. "Come on you two! I want to introduce you to everyone!"

* * *

 **Stopping here because this is getting long, but I think this idea warrants a part two at some point.**

* * *

 **Invisible Prince** **:** Second Generation Replacement is an idea suggested by Scorin early on in The Robin Variable. It entails the second generation (Lucina, Owain, Noire, etc) taking the role in the story their parents would (so something like Lucina and Owain finding Morgan in a field) and then using a custom third generation in place of where the second generation would usually be.

Of course, there are less second generation characters than first generation characters, so I think I'll have to make some up there too.

Wait, I put normal horses in the pokemon story? Where? That's a mistake.

I like a lot of your idea. But I have to say no to the baker, papyrus/sans personalities, and unicorn ideas. Pap/Sans is not being used because… well it's not really Lucina then, is it? She's no prankster; heck, she explicitly has _no_ sense of humor.

And I assume by "cyrokinesis" you mean "cryokinesis".

 **Darkness is complete : **Those are two very different ideas. One is just moving the story to a different age, and the other is making Ylisse a technological powerhouse and probably way stronger than anything else in the world. I'll note them both down.


	11. Pokemon in Fire Emblem 6

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem or Pokemon, all rights to the owners.**

 **Back to pokemon for now. Oh, and Maribelle isn't a troubadour here. I know I've generally given everyone with mounts- well-** _ **a mount**_ **so far, but that's not always going to hold true. Point in case: Maribelle and Aversa.**

* * *

"Oh my, the _Exalt_ , in all her radiance? I fear to look, it might burn my eyes!" Gangrel cackles. The yellow-orange mouse next to him sneers down at the Shepherds and jabs it's tail at them, perfectly reflecting it's trainer's malevolence. "Oh dear me Raichu, I feel _unprepared_! I should have brought my servants, and maybe organized a parade!"

"Rai, Raichu!" The pokemon snickers. It feigns awe for a moment, and then falls over laughing.

"Yep, diplomacy lookin' real good right now." Robin mutters with complete irreverence towards the situation. "Chrom, be ready to charge in there."

It is unbecoming of a ruler to groan or complain, and Emmeryn is resisting the urge to do both right now seeing as _none_ of her retinue is listening to her desire to try diplomacy whatsoever. Even Philia, her closest friend besides Blissey, is preparing for battle against her wishes.

Everyone has abandoned peace so quickly. Have they all no faith in her? Is she such a fool that even her own siblings, her own retainers, put no stock in her plans?

She knows Chrom never had faith that Gangrel would deal in diplomacy, it had nothing to do with her own skills, but even Robin, who knows _nothing_ about Gangrel, is so quick to dismiss the possibility of peace.

"I have come to settle the misunderstanding between our two nations." Emmeryn says as she suppresses her inner doubt and turmoil. "I'm sure we can come to an understanding."

"Why of course…!" Gangrel says with the most obvious sarcasm possible. "The understanding is simple! We Plegians understand that all Ylissians deserve to die, and you _Ylissians_ understand nothing at all!"

"Raichu!" The pokemon cackles. A few sparks dance threateningly from its cheeks as it leers down at the Ylissians.

Emmeryn reluctantly admits to herself that maybe the others are right. She was expecting Gangrel to be stubborn and rude, not overtly hostile. "Surely you jest Gangrel. Such an insult is tantamount to a declaration of war."

"Finally, she gets it!" Gangrel laughs. "It took you long enough girl! I thought the brigands would have tipped you off long ago!"

The Exalt grimaces openly. "Is there no hope for peace?"

"Peace? PEACE? Hah!" Gangrel snorts. "I've seen Ylissian peace, your father taught Plegia _exactly_ what Ylisse thinks 'peace' is, and we want no part of it! Peace is only going to be had when every Ylissian lies dead in the streets!"

"Raichu!"

"Cool, cool." Robin nods absently at Gangrel's words. "So Emm, can we fight yet? The sooner we can, the sooner we go home. I think Maribelle would prefer being free sooner than later as well."

Indeed the noble does not seem particularly happy to be held prisoner. A dark-skinned lady and her Mismagius stand guard over the cleric and Tsareena both of whose' hands are bound tightly by ropes. It would be accurate to say they've been totally ignored by almost everyone thus far.

"I…" Emmeryn's shoulders sag as several plegian warriors approach her guard, weapons in hand. The Exalt's voice is resigned, defeated. "I give my permission… Defend us, and retrieve Maribelle."

"Yes Milady." Robin's face sports a grim smile. Her cloak billows in the faint wind as she starts bellowing orders and striding towards the enemy. "Backline, suppressing fire on Maribelle's position! Frontline, engage the enemy! Sumia, Lissa, to me!" She even gives orders to Philia to the surprise of quite a few people. " _You_ get Emmeryn out of here and alert the army. The Shepherds will deal with this, but we need to keep some of the guard to help our retreat. Sort that out, quickly."

To an even bigger surprise, Philia listens and nods. Her head whips around and she shouts to one of the guard captains. "Jarvan! You are temporarily reassigned to the control of Tactician Robin. Assist their retreat, and follow whatever orders you are given."

"Yes Ma'am!" The captain salutes.

Sumia, Lissa, and their pokemon join Robin's side quickly, with the fliers arriving before the clerics. Robin quickly asks a question. "Lissa, where does the Rescue staff pull someone to?"

"Right next to me."

"What if you're in the air?"

"Oh, that's what you mean. I have a certain radius I can teleport my target into, about ten feet in any direction."

"How long is your pull range?"

"Uh… a few dozen feet. I think. About halfway to where Maribell is now."

"Sufficient." Robin grunts. "Sumia, Lissa, listen carefully. Sumia, I need you to fly Lissa in range to use her staff on them, but low enough to the ground that you don't pull them into midair."

"O-Okay." The girl nods.

"Then I need you to fall back and do it _again_ , pulling them over here." She points to the ground they're standing upon. "The other Shepherds will cover you, but you have to be _fast_. You're one flier alone on the battlefield."

"Understood!" She nods, and Lissa copies her movements.

"Audino."

"Audi?"

"Do your job until they get back. Tranquill can only hold two people." Robin raises her voice above the din of battle happening behind them. "Absol!"

"Sol." The pokemon bounds over to them.

"Guard Audino until Lissa's back."

"Absol."

###

" _What are they doing?_ " Maribelle fumes. " _Are they_ _ignoring_ _us? Didn't they come here to rescue us?!_ "

Tsareena is a bit more calm than her trainer, but clearly not happy. The pokemon taps her foot impatiently as she watches the Shepherds scrambling around below.

Aversa and Mismagius are keeping an eye on them as well. The dark mage is scowling in suspicion as she watches the tactician converse with an ariel knight and the Ylissian princess. She knows the girl is planning something, how could she not? The only question is what, and how to stop it.

As it turns out, she doesn't get the chance to formulate a counter. Arrows, spells, and ranged techniques are suddenly slung in her direction from a small squad of Ylissians and their pokemon all direct their attention at her and force the woman to take cover behind Mismagius who throws up a quick Protect.

At this point Sumia and Lissa have flown into range, and the Rescue magic snaps Maribelle and Tsareena away from Aversa's position.

"Drat." The dark mage snarls as she backs up the hill with her pokemon shielding her. "That's disappointing."

"Mismag, Mismagius."

"Of course my sweet, you're right. She's unimportant in the long run…" Aversa mutters. "Let us get out of their range, we have other matters to attend to."

###

"Starmie dear, Thunder!"

The eight-armed Mysterious Pokemon complies, and drops a crackling bolt of lightning down on the unfortunate squad of Charizard riders. The additional arrows from Virion make short work of the unfortunate fliers.

Beside them Miriel and Alakazam are busy supporting Chrom and the frontline group as they push up the hill. The psychic pokemon has some issue against the dark types the common soldiers employ, it can't use Psychic against them, but it manages to help nonetheless with well-placed Thunder Waves.

"Are… we… late…?" A young voice gasps from behind them. A short mage and his Elgyem are jogging (and floating) to the group. The short mage is panting, clearly tired. "Where's Maribelle? I'm ready to help."

"Here dear." The lady in question says. Robin's rescue plan was successful, and the lady and Tsareena were pulled safely behind the Shepherds' lines. "What are you doing here Ricken? Did Prince Chrom let you come along this time?"

"W-Well no." The mage says hesitantly. "I came on my own when I heard you were in danger…"

"Well, as much as I appreciate the sentiment, this is very foolish of you." The healer scolds. "You must leave Ricken."

"No! I didn't come all the way here just to be sent back home like a kid!" Ricken protests.

"There is no way to get you to leave?" The lady sighs.

"No!"

"Report to Robin then." The noble says. For a moment Ricken could swear the girl is actually hiding a smile. It's only a moment though, and her stern look is back in place quickly.

"R-Right!" Ricken nods hastily. "Come on Elgyem."

The pokemon follows its trainer silently, though it gives a small wave to Maribelle and Tsareena as it floats by.

"How noble of the boy." Virion murmurs. He doesn't take his eyes off the Plegians while he speaks, and easily snipes a poochyena up top a cliff face. "Is he a Shepherd? I have yet to meet him."

"A Shepherd in training." Miriel, who has been mostly silent so far, speaks up. "I have been training him."

"You three! Less talking, more fighting!" Robin's voice cuts into the conversation. Maribelle startles at her shouting, and glances over to see the tactician glaring at them from close to the front line. "Explanations later! This is _war_!"

"Well she's unusually serious." Virion chuckles. "As she says though, we can speak later."

"Yes, of course." Miriel nods. "Let us be done with these ruffians first."

* * *

 **This is a bit of a wonky chapter, and a short one, but I wasn't really getting anywhere trying to write more so I'm just going to stop here.**

* * *

 **Invisible Prince** **:** Maybe… I'll admit I still not partial to the idea, but I'll note it down.

 **LoveGlutton :** Not sure what you mean. Gerome doesn't question him about knowing Risen from what I can see (though he would be justified in doing so). Also, glad you like the Pokemon story.


	12. Pokemon in Fire Emblem 7

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem or Pokemon, all rights to the owners.**

 **I say it every chapter, so this time I just won't. On a different note, I'm not sure how far I want this Pokemon idea to do. I have so many changes I could make to turn this into a proper story with a lot more depth, but this collection isn't really meant to house full stories. Maybe on the last chapter of Pokemon (probably the end of the Gangrel arc so still a few more chapters) I'll tell you all the miscellaneous ideas I had that I didn't put in/get to.**

* * *

"Absol, Will-O-Wisp!" Robin barks.

The pokemon obliges. Ghostly blue fire flickers around his head for a moment before shooting forwards and engulfing the Hippowdon. The fire itself does negligible damage, but the burns it inflicts will slowly wear down the Heavyweight Pokemon over time.

That said, they need this thing gone _now_. It's sandstorm is wreaking havoc on the inside of the palace, and it's a major part of the reason the assassins are making so much progress.

The Shepherds have some support of their own though. Shapeshifters are news to Robin, but a lady that can turn into a Linoone is always welcome. Also, while similarly unexpected, a thief and his Weavile have joined the Shepherd's side and Robin isn't about to argue with help that can deal with all these blasted Ground types.

Not that the Shepherds were lacking anti-Ground types. Sawsbuck, Amoonguss, Starmie, and occasionally Tsareena (when she finds herself near the front lines) are more than capable of dealing with these foes, but there are a ton of them. It's like the assassins brought an entire _swarm_ of Sandile along with them.

The Hippowdon in front of Robin growls deeply, spewing even more sand out of it's ports. It raises a foot in a very telegraphed motion and slams it down hard onto the floor.

The Earthquake rocks the the ground, and the floor underneath the tactician rocks violently. Thankfully the burn reduces the Pokemon's strength, so the ground doesn't outright crack like it usually would under such an attack.

"Night Slash!"

"Absol!" The Disaster Pokemon complies and cuts into Hippowdon with its horn. The larger Pokemon growls lowly and steadily starts walking backwards away from us. As it does so a host of Sandile rush in from adjacent corridors, covering its retreat.

"It seems they have a tactician too." Robin mutters with a frown. The Sandile snap threateningly at her, but she's mostly ignoring them. "Virion! Could I get a bit of help?"

"Of course my dear! Starmie?"

The star-shaped Pokemon's gem flashes in response, and it spews out a massive Hydro Pump at small Desert Croc Pokemon. The Sandile quickly scatter at the sight of a water move, but their job is done. Hippowdon has escaped, and its sandstorm is still raging.

Beckoning Virion, Starmie, Kellam, and Amoonguss to come with her, Robin pushes down the corridor. She has an Iron Sword in hand rather than her usual Thunder, as Thunder has no effect on all the Ground types around.

A voice cackles out from beyond the veil of sand as Robin and her squad try to navigate the obscured corridors. "Well now, fate truly piles gifts at my feet!" The voice says. "And here I thought you were gone forever little bird!"

"Wow, 'little bird' how original…" Robin says dryly. "Because I'm named Robin. I bet you feel clever."

"I don't recall you having such an attitude! It would seem your time with the Ylissians has taught you bad habits." A purple-skinned man is dark robes strides through the veil of sand, carrying a black Flux tome. I can see the vague shape of _something_ behind him, but I can't make out what it is thanks to the sand. "It doesn't matter. You're coming with me, _Robin_."

"Six against one? It hardly seems sporting." Virion chuckles as he nocks an arrow. "I can't say I'm feeling overly apologetic though."

"Amoonguss, Rage Powder!" Kellam shouts as he rushes forwards. The Pokemon attempts to do it's asked, but the spores spewed into the air are whipped away by the blowing wind and don't hit their target. Kellam also strikes with his lance but the sorcerer easily slides out of the way.

"Sand Tomb!" The man laughs. The ground underneath Kellam sags and breaks, and the man's legs sink into the dirt below as it deepens into a mini sinkhole. The sorcerer then whips an arm around and launches a Flux blast at Starmie. The blast knocks the Mysterious Pokemon into a wall, and the gem in its center flickers weakly prompting a hasty recall by Virion.

Tomes function as elemental attacks, and as such a Flux tome is basically a Dark type move and is terrifying for a psychic type like Starmie. Bronze and Iron weapons count as Normal type, while Steel and Silver count as Steel type. It's not unusual for professional soldiers to keep an Iron and Steel weapon on them just in case they come across something resistant to one or the other.

"Absol, Night Slash!" Robin barks again. She charges in right beside her Pokemon and slashes with her sword. Again, the man dodges the attacks directed at him. The omnipresent sand is crippling everyone's ability to see and move properly, while the sorcerer doesn't seem phased at all.

"Giga drain!" The sorcerer shouts to his still unseen Pokemon. A flash of green energy shoots at Robin, and she can feel herself being slowly sapped of health.

"Amoonguss!" Kellam yells from down in his hole. The sand from the sandstorm is starting to fill it in, and the level of sand has risen up to his stomach. "Get close and use Spore!"

The Mushroom Pokemon is rather slow, but it's not stupid. I flanks the sorcerer with Absol and Robin and gets as close as it can before spewing out it's Spore. To Robin's surprise it actually succeeds, and the man groans "no…" before dropping face-first onto the sandy floor.

That's not the end though. With the sorcerer down, the group notices the wall behind him actually start to _move._ A Shadow Ball comes whipping at Robin's face, and she has to dive out of the way to avoid getting hit. Virion shoots arrows, but it has no visible effect.

When the wall gets close enough Robin can see what it actually is: a massive Palossand. It looms over them at ten feet tall, and the small squad quickly backpedals from the menacing Pokemon. It moves until it's "mouth" is right over the sorcerer, at which point it drops its body onto the man, obscuring him from their view, and starts a steady retreat backwards.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out the sorcerer is probably Palossand's trainer. They couldn't kill the man, but a retreat is tolerable.

"Come on!" Robin shouts as she rushes to help Kellam out of the hole (which is no longer actively restraining him). "We need to find that Hippowdon and get rid of this stupid sandstorm!"

###

"C'mon Lady, stay on your toes!" Gaius barks as he stabs another Sandile. "Your brother is gonna give me an earful if he finds you with a single scratch!"

It's beyond the thief why _he_ of all people was assigned to guard the Exalt. He met the prince literally ten minutes ago, why is he being trusted with his sister's life!? Sure the edgy masked kid is here too, but seriously why not the knight or the prince himself!? Gaius is _not_ a great fighter!

"I think you overestimate my brother's temper." Emmeryn says. She's trying to look calm, but the way she jumps at every little noise makes her nervousness clear to see. She is also clearly repulsed by the killing she sees around her, though she doesn't try to stop the thief. "Are you injured? I can-"

A loud roar stops her mid-sentence, and Gaius blancs at seeing a Rydon charging down a nearby hallway towards them. "Oh Naga… uh, Weavile, Ice Shard!"

"Weavile!" The pokemon complies. Despite the elemental weakness though, the small spikes do little to the Drill Pokemon. They're simply too weak. "Wea…"

"Yeah, uh…"

"Dewott, use Razor Shell!"

Dewott complies. It dashes down the hallway, and ducks under the larger Pokemon while using the move in question to cut it open.

Gaius grimaces at the sight. It's weird enough to see dead people. Dead pokemon are just _unnerving_. Such powerful creatures can be killed just like any human… and then they come back as ghosts, and _fuck_ ghosts. Gaius thinks they're scary as hell.

"Good job Dewott." The masked kid whispers when the Pokemon comes running back to them.

"Why can't you do that?" Gaius asks Weavile jokingly in a weak voice. Really he's just trying to break the tension he feels, but the Pokemon gives him a flat and unimpressed look. The thief knows very well that Weavile can't handle something like Rydon effectively.

Then again, neither Weavile or his trainer trained for heavy combat. They trained for stealth and thievery and such. They simply don't have the heavy-hitting attacks for something like this.

"Be on guard, they will have more than one card to play." The masked kid whispers to Gaius. "Rydon will not be their only threat."

"Yeah, this blasted sandstorm is a dozen threats on its own." The thief gripes. He steps back into Emmeryn's room where the stinging sand and dust is less severe. "Gods, my eyes…"

"Hmph." The kid says with a poorly-hidden smirk.

"Oh shut it. The mask makes you look ridiculous." The thief snaps grouchily.

"Wha-?! Excuse you!"

"Sure, sure. Bet you think you're so much better because the mask helps with the sand…" Gaius grumbles.

"No! I just…" The kid hesitates. "I meant no offense Sir Gaius, I was thinking of something else."

"Ah, well…" The man sighs. "My bad then kid. Sorry."

"Blissey, can you help them?" Emmeryn asks softly to the Happiness Pokemon. The large Pokemon chirps in affirmation, and glows a soft green for a moment. The sound of a bell can be heard, and the stinging sensation temporarily leaves Gaius' eyes.

It's only for a moment though. Heal Bell isn't meant to deal with weather effects. The pink Pokemon frowns when it notices Gaius and Weavile start to squint again. Dewott has a pair of goggles on, and such doesn't suffer the vision problems the two thieves do.

"It's alright Squishy, we appreciate it." Gaius sighs and rubs the large Pokemon on the head.

Weavile, on the other hand, glares suspiciously at Blissey. "Weavile…" It says, clearly distrustful.

Blissey smiles kindly back, to which the Sharp Claw Pokemon scowls even harder. Just like their trainers they only met a few minutes ago. Blissey, however, mistook them for assassins (which is logical enough, Gaius does look the part) and immediately Attracted Weavile upon seeing him.

Weavile was _not_ amused after coming to his senses.

"C'mon Weav, stop glaring at 'er."

The Pokemon huffs and looks away while crossing his arms.

"Sir Gaius, there is a trio of Krookodile incoming. They and their trainers broke through the front lines. Be prepared." The masked kid warns from outside the room. "Lady Emmeryn, Blissey, I hate to ask but we could use your assistance here."

"Blissey!" The large Pokemon immediately nods, ready to help. Emmeryn is a bit more reluctant, but she isn't about to let her guards suffer unnecessary injury. She picks up her Mend staff and moves to stand behind her guards, and squints herself against the sand.

"Sir Gaius, Weavile, Lady Emmeryn, Blissey, please follow my orders." The masked kid says firmly as they level their blade at the oncoming enemies. "This will be difficult, but I have a plan."

"You got it kid."

"Wea…"

"I understand."

"Bliss! Blissey!"

* * *

 **I would say this is a cliffhanger, but we both know very well we won't be picking up here next time. Also, I'm just realizing now that Lucina still has her mask despite being in the assassination battles. Whatever, I can fit that into the story. You'd be surprised how many things in** _ **all**_ **of my stories get added because I make a mistake and just decide to run with it.**

* * *

 **Love Glutton :** Ah, I see. My bad. That's actually a good point.


	13. Succubus Marc and Incubus Morgan

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **Is it obvious enough that I** _ **love**_ **using Succubi in my stories yet? This was suggested by Wernher von Braun. Succubus female Morgan (referred to henceforth as Marc) and incubus male Morgan.**

 **Sidenote, I hate female Morgan in game because she's a sadist, so normally when I write her I take** _ **away**_ **that character trait, but it's sorta needed here. Consider this one of the** _ **only**_ **times you'll ever see me write sadistic Morgan, and don't expect her to get off lightly like she does in the game.**

* * *

" _Hmm… which one today?_ " Marc thinks to herself as the future children all sit down for lunch. Brady and Cynthia are cooking today, which is a good sign for the expected quality of the food. " _Can't take Laurent anymore, which is a shame. He was so easy to corner, everyone else is so much work. You just had to keep the easiest meal for yourself, didn't you Lucy?_ "

Okay, so Lucy hasn't _technically_ claimed him yet. Marc could still feed on the mage, and while Lucy wouldn't like it she never told Marc not to… hmm… maybe Lucy feels like sharing? No, no, probably not. She's probably say it would be "too hard on him" or something like that.

" _Yeah._ " Marc thinks, " _it would, but what guy wouldn't want two succubi? Sure he'd probably be asleep for a full day after, but that's a small price!_ "

She shakes her head as the food is brought out.

" _Nah, it'll be too much effort to convince Lucy, and I don't feel like going behind her back. I'll just choose someone else…_ "

Morgan is also at the table. His face lights up when the food is brought out, and he shoots the cooks an ecstatic smile after his first mouthful to show them how much he enjoys the food. Brady gives him a curt nod while Cynthia smiles in response with a noticeable flush on her face.

Lucina leans over from where she's sitting and whispers. "Morgan, your hood…"

"Ah, right, sorry." The boy whispers back sheepishly as he pulls the fabric over his head. He always forgets he's supposed to hide his face.

It's weird to him to think about the fact that there _no one_ here knows that he and his siblings aren't human. Not even Laurent knows and he's super smart, and Lucy feeds from him all the time! You think he'd notice the blank spots in his memory.

" _Ooh… maybe he has, and he's gonna get evidence and then expose us to the world!_ " Morgan thinks excitedly. " _Then I can be a cool villain, and be like 'curses! I've been revealed! Now hero, you must_ _die_ _!' and then we'll have a super awesome magic battle, and Marc and Lucy and Mom will join in, and then Justice Cabal will rush in to help Laurent, and-!_ "

"Morgan, are you going to eat?"

"Ah, uh, right, food!" The distracted boy chirps as he brings himself out of his daydream. "Yeah, I'm eating!"

Speaking of eating: his sisters are going to have to feed today. Not him, and that's purely because he's male and therefore weaker. It's a case of… what was it called? Sexual dimorphism? Yeah, that. He's apparently good to look at (but that's according to _Dad_ , and he's his _dad_ , so he could just be being nice) and he has a _few_ powers like being able to charm people, but Mom and his sisters get all the cool ones.

They also have to 'eat' people though, so maybe it's a fair trade-off.

###

"Hmm…" Marc hums with pursed lips as everyone leaves the building.

"What's up sis?" Morgan asks. "You look like you're thinking hard."

"Nah, not really. Just choosing who to feed on."

"It's a hard choice?"

"Well yeah, it's hard to get anyone alone but Laurent, and Lucy's already claimed Laurent."

"Ah, right… so who ya thinkin'?"

"Maybe Yarne. I don't think he's doing anything too important, right?"

"Not that I know of."

"The question is if he'll be alone…"

"You don't talk to him that much, do you?"

"No…"

"I have a solution then. Hey, Yarne!"

"Y-Yeah?" The taguel asks nervously as he turns around and sees the twins. "What's up guys?"

"Mom wanted to see you." Morgan lies. "I sorta forgot to tell you earlier…"

"R-Really?!" Yarne squeaks.

"Yeah." Marc nods. "Nothing serious. She's talking to _everyone_ now that the war is over."

"B-But I already talked to her."

"She forgot a few things." Morgan says apologetically. "Do you have a spare ten minutes?"

"Sure." He nods nervously. His voice lowers as they start walking. "Are you serious? Do you think I'm in trouble? Did she look angry?"

Morgan starts to speak. "N-" but his sister cuts him off.

"A little." Marc says, hiding a grin. "Did you do something Yarne?"

"W-Well I _may_ have covered for Severa so she could skip training to go shopping…"

"Just once?" Marc asks. She know Severa has skipped more than one time, so she's taking a guess that this isn't the first time Yarne has helped. "You're not giving us the full story, are you?"

Yarne goes slightly pale. "You already know?"

"Yup. And if I know-"

"Robin knows." The taguel whimpers. "Oh gods, I'm definitely in trouble."

Marc is stifling a laugh, and Morgan is trying to glare at the girl while not giving away the ruse. If he could back out now he would, but that would mean telling Yarne that this was all a trick. He doesn't like being mean to Yarne even if he knows the boy won't remember it.

"In here." Morgan says, leading them to the door of an unoccupied classroom usually used by the pegasus knights. They're out training though (Cynthia had to run after lunch to make sure she wasn't late) so they won't be back for a few hours.

"Wh-Why here?"

"Mom's study was getting a thorough cleaning today." Morgan says. He's not really looking at Yarne anymore, and instead meets his sister's eye. This is all on her now. "I'm going. Good luck Yarne."

"Yeah, thanks…" The taguel says miserably as the boy walks away. Yarne timidly pulls open the door, not paying attention to Marc behind him, and only has time to whisper "She's not here?" before Marc shoves him into the room and closes the door behind them.

The taguel scrambles back to his feet to see Marc standing over him. The tactician in training pulls back her hood to reveal a superior smirk on her lips.

"Wh-Wh-What's going on?!"

"I felt like having rabbit for lunch." Marc snickers. She steps forwards and he scrambles back until he hits a desk, and Marc lets out a laugh at his panic. "And wouldn't you know it, you're the only rabbit around."

"We a-already ate!"

"You're not _that_ sort of food." Marc coos mockingly. She lets her magic simmer up the surface of her skin causing her eyes to glow faintly and pushing her natural charm magic into his system. It amuses Marc highly to think that even when Yarne is totally terrified her magic will ensure he's still attracted to her. The tactician in training visibly licks her lips and Yarne shudders in fear.

"W-What sort of food am I then?!" He squeaks.

Marc confidently removes her coat and peels off her long gloves and drop them on one of the tables next to her. She snickers at seeing Yarne's eyes drawn to her shoulders. It's something so simple, but her charm powers make even her most basic of actions extremely sensual to others. She extends her arms towards him with a mocking smile. "Come and find out."

"Uh… no?"

"Then I'll come to you." Marc says. She strides towards him, and the boy scrambles to his feet to try and move away from her, but he's too slow. Marc latches onto him so that they're nose to nose and slides her hands under his shirt. "Ooh, you have muscles… tasty…"

Marc doesn't understand why Lucy enjoys being gentle to those she feeds from, and what makes even _less_ sense is why she insists on feeding the long way. The tactician in training ignores Yarne's panicked stammering as she fiddles with his belt. Her touch paralysis is already setting in and he can barely move anything _but_ his mouth.

" _You know what, it'd be funny if he could just speak the entire time._ " Marc thinks to herself. "' _No Marc, please don't do this!' Ahahaha… ooh, I just realized, he's can turn into a prey animal, and I'm preying on him! How fitting!_ "

###

"You done?"

"You were waiting for me? Aww, thanks bro." Marc chuckles. "I wiped Yarne's mind and sent him on his way, I told him that I found him napping in the room. You should have seen it, he was super confused!"

"Right. Sure." Morgan says uncomfortably. "So, uh, Marc… I have something to ask."

"What's up?"

"Why were you so _mean_ to him?"

"Huh?"

"You know, why did you try to freak him out so much?"

"Because it's funny! Plus, it's not like he's going to remember."

"Well yeah, but it's still mean." Morgan insists.

"So?"

"B-But-"

"Sometimes people just need to get in touch with their inner sadist." Marc chuckles. "C'mon don't tell me you've never wanted to mess with someone."

"Well I've pulled a prank here or there, but what you were doing was just sorta mean."

"Was it really? He _did_ do something wrong after all." Marc reminds her brother.

"I mean I guess…"

"Don't worry about it bro. I wiped his memory remember? He's none the worse for wear."

Morgan purses his lips but doesn't push the issue. "Alright. Fine."

###

Morgan enjoys playing Justice Cabal with Owain and Cynthia. They don't have set things they do, they just sorta roleplay their way through an afternoon doing whatever comes to mind.

The problem is… well… Cynthia's a girl. That's not a problem in itself of course! Morgan has no _problem_ with that, it's just that his passive charm powers only significantly affect girls which means he has to keep his hood up and his gloves on.

And he's not particularly good at remembering either of those things.

"Behold! I am Owain Dark, the greatest of all heroes!" The myrmidon shouts as he brandishes a wooden replica of Missletain. "Fear me villain! For I have come to end you tyranny with my worthy sidekick, the fierce Lady Cynthia!"

"You don't stand a chance fell sorcerer!" The girl in question cries out. "My spear will bring you to justice!"

"Bwahahahaha! Fools!" Morgan cackles. "I wield the power of the old dragon, Medeus! You think your paltry weapons can stand against me?!"

"I know they can!" Owain says confidently. "Now, have at you villain!"

There's an inherent problem in these mock fights. Wooden weapons are fine, but there's no such thing as weak combat magic, so they rely on everyone's willingness to play along. If Morgan throws out an arm, the understanding is that is that he's cast a spell.

So Morgan starts off by shoving both arms in Owain's direction. The boy immediately pretends to be blown back by the spell, and staggers backwards before falling to the grass in a comically overblown fashion.

"See girl? Your master was dispatched so _easily_." Morgan taunts. "It is best you run now."

"Never!" Cynthia cries. She levels her weapon. "My master is not gone, he'll be back, you'll see!"

Owain, of course, is already back on his feet. But he's patiently waiting a few feet behind Cynthia to give her a chance to roleplay without him. For all his flamboyance he knows when to stay quiet so others can have their own fun.

Cynthia charges in and thrusts her lance forward in a graceful but slow motion. She can't put _actual_ force behind her strike or she might hurt Morgan. The tactician in training sneers and grabs the shaft of her weapon, wrenches it out of her hands, and grabs her collar with his other hand. He pulls her so they're nose to nose, and doesn't notice when his hood falls off. "Silly girl." Morgan says with a grin. He _loves_ playing the villain. "Your recklessness is your undoing. Now you are _mine_. You'll make a perfect prisoner to taunt your master with!"

Now at this point, Morgan would expect one of three things: either Owain would rush in and help her and the two would dramatically defeat him in a proper fight, or Cynthia would find a burst of heroic strength and tear herself free and maybe stab him in the stomach or something, or Cynthia would dramatically cry out and protest her capture and Owain would have to do a rescue mission or something.

He did _not_ expecting her to say "o-okay" in a timid squeak with her face flushed bright red.

"Uh, Cynthia?" Morgan says in a concerned voice, breaking character. "Are you okay? Did I go too far?"

"N-No, no! I'm fine." She squeaks. Despite her reassurance Morgan releases her, and Owain comes jogging up.

"What happened?" He asks. "You're all red Cynth, are you fine?"

"I think I went too far." Morgan says nervously.

"I'm fine guys, really." Cynthia protests. "I-I just got caught off guard!"

"Still, maybe we should stop. We've been doing this for an hour." Owain says as he glances at the setting sun. "Our epic conflict can wait until _after_ dinner."

Cynthia has no real choice but to nod and agree. Inside though, she's cursing her moment of weakness. What's super embarrassing is that she almost said "yes, please" instead of "okay". _That_ would have raised some questions.

It's not fair, why does Morgan have to be so attractive? It's way distracting!

###

"Morgan…"

"Yeah Lucy?"

"I hope you didn't have your hood off the _entire_ time while you were with Owain and Cynthia."

"What?" The boy feels his head. "Oops..."

###

"Why couldn't they make Severa do this? She _likes_ shopping." Marc complains. "Or one of the servants? We're technically a prince and a princess! Why are _we_ doing this?"

"Because we said we wanted to help?" Morgan reminds her. "If we want to be Shepherds, we need to do chores… and Severa is grounded for skipping training again."

"Bah." Marc huffs. "Shopping though? C'mon."

The two tacticians in training are in the shopping district. Morgan has a list in hand, while Marc is carrying a large woven basket to carry all the stuff in. During wartime the Shepherds would by food in bulk which would be delivered in wooden crates, but during peacetime they can afford to buy food as needed so they can actually eat fresh and perishable foods.

"Okay, so, let's get the heavy stuff first and leave the squishy stuff 'till later. We don't want to put apples and bread on the bottom." Morgan says as he inspects the list. "So first… a few cheese wheels."

Ylisstol is an interesting case among cities, and not just because it's the capital city of Ylisse. There are a lot of specialty foodmakers (like for cheese, wine, specialty breads and some difficult to keep meats) that would usually have their clientele restricted to the upper classes because no one else could afford it. _However_ , due to advanced farming and animal husbandry knowledge, there is enough of these specialty foods on the market that the prices have to be lowered to sell them all, and so even the lower classes can occasionally afford a high-class treat. It's something that is currently specific to Ylisstol and the surrounding towns, but Emmeryn is hoping to expand this phenomena to the rest of the country over time.

"Wow, fascinating." Marc says dryly as Morgan recounts this to her. "Nerd."

"Mom taught me that." Morgan pouts. "Brute."

The two find a stall in the central market that sells cheese, and Morgan quickly buys a few wheels and plops them in Marc's basket.

"Okay, that's done. Now…"

Marc sighs as she follows her brother around. She's carrying the basket because she's the strong one, but that doesn't make it any less annoying. Her arms are tired by the fifth item Morgan drops in, much less the tenth. She's also bored as fuck because Morgan is doing all the talking.

Well she's not going to put up with this the _whole_ time. When they go to get apples, Marc says "hold this, _I_ want to get it" and shoves the heavy basket into his hands.

"Wait, you need the money!" Morgan calls.

"Nope." The girl says with a grin. She knows she has the ultimate bargaining tool. She strides up confidently to the stall owner, probably a merchant by the looks of it, and (most importantly to her plan) he's male.

Men are _literally_ prey for a succubus, and Marc has no qualms about abusing this fact.

"Hey there little lady." The man says with a grin. "You an' your brother look like you got your hands full there."

"We certainly do." Marc says innocently as she pulls down her hood. She makes sure to look him directly in the eye. "We need two dozen apples if you please."

"Two dozen? Big house huh?" The man chuckles as he passes the apples to her one by one so she can put them in the basket Morgan is holding. "That'll be a copper an apple. Twenty four."

"Right." Marc says, leaning on the wooden counter. She ignores Morgan's attempts to get her attention and give her the coin pouch, and pushes a bit of charm magic into her voice and appearance and gives him a pleading look. "We… don't have that much."

"Y-You don't?" The man stammers. His eyes are fixated on hers, and Marc notices that he's subconsciously leaning towards her.

"Marc…" Morgan hisses.

The girl moves a hand behind her back to give him the middle finger, while keeping the stall keeper firmly in her gaze. "You wouldn't mind letting us have these for free, would you?"

"W-Well…" The stall keeper says, struggling futilely against the charm. Marc holds back a grin and puts the finishing touch on her performance by puckering her lips at him and batting her eyelashes. "A-Alright. Just for you."

"Thank you~!" Marc coos and winks at him. " _Ahaha, too easy… I should go shopping more often_."

Morgan roughly shoves the basket back into his sister's hands, and Marc immediately takes back that thought.

###

"Marc." Lucina says as she steps into the room. "Do you have a few minutes?"

"Sure! What's up sis?" Marc chirps and puts down her tactics book.

"I have some concerns." The blue-haired girl says bluntly as she takes a seat across from her sister. "I've heard troubling things about you."

Marc rolls her eyes to the ceiling. "From Morgan no doubt."

"Well yes." Lucina nods. Her expression becomes a bit more serious. "He told me about how you stole those apples."

"I didn't _steal_ them; the man _gave_ them to me."

"Because you charmed him, with _magic_."

"You can't prove that. I just talked to him." Marc huffs.

"We are _not_ playing this game Marc." Lucina says firmly. "And you know Morgan can sense magic. He's both an incubus _and_ a competent mage."

"Yeah, yeah." Marc snorts. "What's the big deal? I charmed the guy, it was _funny_. Look, if it's such a big deal I can go find and pay him. No harm, no foul, right?"

"No. I mean… yes, you _will_ go do that, but that's not the problem here." The older girl sighs. "You can't abuse your powers like that Marc."

"Why not?" She groans. "What's the point of having them if we can't use them!? It's not like I did any _harm_."

"That's irrelevant. It's both rude and against the law." Lucina scolds.

"Fine _Mom_."

"Would you prefer _she_ deal with you?" The older girl says with a hard expression. "I can tell her everything Marc told me."

"No…" Marc grumbles. It irks the girl that her older sister actually has the authority to discipline her.

"And also, I heard about what happened with Yarne."

"What? I needed to feed! You've done things like that before too."

"No, I'm not talking about the feeding itself Marc." Lucina says. "Something about 'getting in touch with your inner sadist'?"

"Oh yeah, that. That was fun." Marc smirks as she remembers. "He's so easy to mess with. He's a total coward! When I cornered him in the classroom he was panicking so much! Ahahah... I wonder what he was thinking the whole time as I fed from him. I wish the paralysis didn't affect people's ability to speak…"

"Wait, do you not force them to sleep?" Lucina asks.

"No." Marc says. "Why would I? Feeding only takes a few minutes."

"You…" The blue-haired girl blinks. "Alright, fine. I can't fault you for it the quick way I suppose, but please tell me you at least do _something_ to calm down whoever you feed on."

"What? You mean like use magic to force them to be happy, or use extra charm magic or something?"

"Yes."

"Nah. That's a waste of effort. They're gonna get memory-wiped anyways."

"You just let them stay paralyzed and fully aware the entire time?!" Lucina sounds horrified.

"Yeah? What's the problem?" Marc is genuinely confused. "What are you getting so worked up about?"

"I…" Lucina is at a loss. How can Marc _not_ see the issue here? "That's an awful thing to do!"

"Not really, they don't remember." The tactician in training shrugs. "They're not scarred or anything. You're too rigid Lucy. Hey, next time you're gonna snack on Laurent you should try messing around with him. Tease him, or just don't put him to sleep. It's _exciting_ , and they're none the worse for wear in the end!"

"I- but-" The blue-haired swordswoman flounders for a moment. "Marc. Say you knew you were going to get your mind wiped."

"Putting me in their shoes huh? Fine, I'll bite."

"You know in two hours your mind is going to get wiped, and those two hours will be totally erased from your memory. This is necessary to help a friend of yours stay alive, they feed on… dreams."

Marc rolls her eyes. Her sister could just say that person is a succubus and the message would get across. She's making this person different just for the sake of it being different, isn't she? "Okay."

"During those two hours, your friend is going to systematically break every bone in your body." Lucina says in a low voice. "Fingers snapping backwards, ribs cracking, joints being dislocated. Slowly, painfully."

Marc squirms a bit from the description. Lucina staring her fiercely in the eye the entire time isn't helping.

"All of this is from your _friend_. Someone you trust to a certain extent, someone you know will probably put you through this again, and who may have put you through this several times already." Lucina's voice is almost a hiss now. "Snap; one finger. Two. Three. Then your arm, then a leg."

"Lucy…"

"But it doesn't matter, does it?" Lucina says with open scorn. Her expression is cold. "Because you won't remember, so why should what _you_ feel matter?"

Marc is aware her sister is using a rather extreme example, but to be honest her sister's blatant disapproval pierces just as deep. Her head dips in shame as Lucina stares down at her, and the tactician in training squirms in acute discomfort.

"But…" Lucina says with a sigh, and looks away. "That's a worst case scenario. I do hope you understand my sentiment though. We may be predators, and humans our prey, but we are all _people_ and we must treat others as such even when it seems pointless. If not, how are we better than the manipulative monsters we are portrayed as in the old tales?"

"I get it." Marc murmurs. "Sorry sis."

"Don't apologize." Lucina says softly. "You've done nothing wrong to me. Just do better from now on, alright? You're a princess, a Shepherd, and most importantly: a _good_ person. Always put yourself in other's shoes when you consider doing something. I know it's common advice, but there is a good reason for it."

###

Cynthia takes a deep breath to fight down the nervousness she feels. Is she really doing this? She might be totally overreacting. Maybe she should just ask _him_ , or Lucina, or even Marc… but she's seen others of her friends try that, and it never works. They never say anything. They change the subject or make something up.

There's _some_ reason for the hoods they wear. There has to be. There's something that causes trouble when they don't have them on. Cynthia wants to be able to understand, maybe she can help! If her friends won't tell her, there's _one_ other person she can ask.

Robin.

However, going straight to her friend's _mother_ , who happens to also wear a hood just like her kids, doesn't exactly fill Cynthia with confidence. What if she looks childish or rude for prying into matters that aren't her own?

" _No. Now's no time to be thinking like that_." Cynthia says while shaking her head vigorously. " _If she tells me to butt out then I'll listen, but there's also a chance I can help with whatever this is so they don't have to hide their faces all the time!_ "

She takes another breath, squares her shoulders, and knocks on the door.

"I'm surprised it took you so long." A voice says from directly behind her. Cynthia squeaks in surprise and whirls around. Her heart is beating rapidly in her chest, and she places one hand over her heart and another on the door to steady herself.

The cloaked figure of Robin stands over the pegasus knight, face covered by that familiar hood. Cynthia wishes terribly that she could at least see the woman's expression to know if she is amused or annoyed.

"Well, seeing as it took you so long to buck up the courage, it must be important." Robin says as she opens the door to her office. "Come in, have a seat."

Cynthia swallows thickly. All her confidence has fled her in that instant. She timidly shuffles into the room and sits in the solid oak chair. The tactician sits on the other side of her dark, hardwood desk in a large, cushioned, and solid-looking dark chair.

The pegasus knight feels very small compared to the large chairs, big desk, and with the tactician looking at her with steepled gloved hands. "So, Cynthia, what's your big question?"

"I-I…" The girl stammers. Her heart hammers against her ribcage as she tries to meet Robin's gaze, though she quickly realizes it's futile. The hood blocks everything. She has no idea what the tactician is thinking. "I have a question."

"I figured as much."

Cynthia quails even further. She said something foolish. They already established she had a question. She shouldn't be this afraid! Robin isn't _scary_ , she's always been nice… but this time the pegasus knight is prying into something personal.

"Cynthia, are you alright?"

"Yes! Yes, I'm fine." She says nervously. "It's… you see… I want to help."

"Help?"

"Yes." Cynthia nods fervently. "I uh… I mean… I should explain."

"Please."

"So, you know how you and Lucina and Marc and Morgan all wear hoods all the time?"

"Ahh… so that's what this is about." Robin says softly. "Why do you think it is we wear these hoods?"

"I don't know." Cynthia says upfront. "But I know you and your kids have to wear them all the time for some reason, so you never get to show your faces!" The pegasus knight's mouth is racing off, so she reigns herself in a bit. "I mean… I barely know what Lucy looks like, and I've known her for almost my entire life. Maybe you all don't care and I'm overreacting, but I'm _worried_."

"Hmm…" The tactician hums. There's a long period of silence; a solid two minutes where Robin stays totally still while studying the girl sitting in front of her. Cynthia is clearly on the verge of panic, which Robin will admit is somewhat her intent. She doesn't want to reveal something so sensitive to someone who just happens to be curious. Cynthia's offer to help (misguided as it may be) certainly boosts Robin's opinion of the girl though.

To tell or not to tell. She's a young adult, and a chatty one at that. Can Robin really trust Cynthia to keep a secret? She has a vague guess what prompted Cynthia to ask her question in the first place, it was probably Morgan. Robin would bet money that her son left his hood off _again_ and that Lucina told him to put it back on _again_ , and Cynthia finally decided she wanted to know what all this secrecy was about.

That and… well, Robin's going to make sure of this one. "Cynthia."

"Y-Yes?"

"What made you decide you wanted to help. What _specifically_? There had to be _some_ event that gave you enough drive to ask me this."

"I-I, w-well…" Cynthia squawks, flushing bright red. There's no way she can say " _I realized I like your son, noticed there was something weird about him and your family always needing hoods, and decided to try and help because of that_."

That would just sound petty, wouldn't it? She'd be helping just because she has a crush. That _is_ what she's doing, but it'd sound a lot worse if she said it out loud.

Robin doesn't have the heart to tell the girl how painfully obvious she is. The bright blush is a dead giveaway. "You know what, it doesn't really matter."

"It doesn't?"

"No." Robin has made her decision. She'll take a risk with Cynthia. The tactician reaches up and slowly pulls off her hood, exposing her waist-length silver hair and soft red eyes to the girl sitting in front of her. "Cynthia."

"Y-Yes?"

"Look me in the eyes." She whispers.

The pegasus knight does as she's asked. She nervously meets Robin's eyes, and inwardly marvels at how beautiful they are. Actually, Robin is just beautiful overall to Cynthia. She's got a soft face, full puffy lips, clean skin…

Those eyes are astounding though. Cynthia can't look away. She almost forgets where she is for a moment as she gets lost in them.

Then Robin pulls her hood back over her face, and Cynthia suddenly snaps out of it.

"I-I-I… sorry." Cynthia squeaks and immediately looks away.

"Don't be." Robin hums. "That's a fairly standard reaction. To be fair, you'd have lasted longer if you _didn't_ look me in the eye. The hair is usually a good choice."

"What do you mean."

"Cynthia." Robin whispers. "I'm not _human_. That feeling you felt, that sense of getting lost in me, being attracted to me? That's charm magic, and I can't turn it off."

"Oh."

"Marc and Lucina are the same. Their charms are extremely potent. If we have even an inch of exposed skin, people all around us tend to fixate on it. Men especially, through no fault of their own."

"Oh wow."

"Not that women don't suffer quite the distraction too. Did you even notice I walked around the desk while we were locking eyes?"

Cynthia blinks, and glances back to the tactician. She is indeed standing right in front of the pegasus knight, leaning against her desk. "No, I didn't notice."

"That's our charm magic for you." Robin sighs. "It's horribly disorienting and distracting to others. It's very hard to be around people without covering up because of it."

"Can people get used to it? Like, develop a resistance?"

"No." Robin says in a mournful voice. "No matter how much we wish they could."

"Wait does that mean-" Cynthia stops herself. She realizes she was about to ask something even more personal.

"Yes, that means Chrom."

The girl winces at her insensitivity. "Sorry."

"It's fine."

"So, uh, what _are_ you if you're not human then?" Cynthia asks cautiously.

"I'm a succubus." She whispers.

"Succubus…?" The girl frowns. Her eyes widen. "Wait, isn't that the se- uhh… the…"

"The sex demon? Yes. Though I'd debate the use of the word 'demon' in our case. We need to 'feed' to survive."

"Oh wow... wait, so Morgan-"

"Is male. He's an incubus, which are less powerful but don't have to feed."

"Ah." Cynthia tries her hardest not to seem disappointed. She should _not_ be thinking such things around Morgan's _mother_.

Robin catches the girl's disappointment though, and decides that a bit of teasing is in order to lighten the mood. "Aha~ were you hoping for some attention?"

The pegasus knight blushes a fierce red from the tips of her ears all the way down her neck. "N-No!"

"Sure." Robin laughs. "Hey, don't tell him I told you, but I think Morgan would really like a hug."

"Wh-Wh-"

"He has to avoid touching people all the time because of his powers, but he doesn't feed so he doesn't even get contact from _that_." Robin says. She's glad her hood is down to hide her wide smile. "So, if you just _happen_ to see an opportunity, don't hold yourself back on account of me."

Cynthia is squirming in place, totally flustered, and Robin decides she's toyed with the girl enough.

"Needless to say, don't tell anyone outside my family you know this. Not even your mother." Robin warns. "Also, _don't_ make any decisions or commitments under the influence of charm. Morgan tends not to notice when his hood is down, so you might need to remind him if you need to think clearly."

The pegasus knight nods rapidly, and the tactician realizes the embarrassed girl just wants to get _out_.

"Alright, you can leave." Robin chuckles. "Don't forget, I _endorse_ hugs."

Cynthia scurries out of the room as fast as she can. She's still a blushing mess… but she's also really excited that she was actually trusted with this.

Robin, for her part, is hoping she made the right choice.

###

Cynthia keeps her new knowledge to herself for a while. She still goes to Justice Cabal 'meetings' (roleplay sessions really) and doesn't try to alert Lucina, Marc, or Morgan that she knows anything about them.

She _does_ start to monitor the siblings though. A lot of things they do are put into new context with knowledge of what they are. If there's ever a Shepherds meeting where they're told to 'gather round' the siblings always keep an arm length of distance between them and everyone else. They also never look over people's shoulders, and generally avoid touch or getting close even when they have their gloves on.

Morgan is a _bit_ of an exception. During Justice Cabal sessions he tends to get caught up in the moment and his touch aversion flies out the window, and he doesn't have a tendency to talk in whisper like his sisters (Cynthia suspects the siblings have charm in their voices too, and that due to the strength of their charm Lucina and Marc don't speak up too often).

Morgan is also the most prone to forgetting his hood. If it gets blown down he rarely remembers to put it back up. Such is the case when the Justice Cabal make their way to the shopping district for a new great weapon (meaning Owain's wooden sword broke and they need a replacement). It's a particularly windy day, and Morgan's hood is blown off as they're walking down the street.

At first Cynthia says nothing. Owain is with them, and she doesn't want him to know something is wrong. Instead she shoots glances at Morgan, trying to grab his attention, but he's caught up chatting with Owain.

They pass a group of young women tending a stall. It looks like they're selling fabrics of some sort. All of the women's eyes follow Morgan as the Justice Cabal strolls down the street, and Cynthia would bet some of the women's conversation is now focused on the boy.

This is not a singular occurrence. As they get deeper into the shopping district, more and more people start to focus on Morgan. Usually this is young women and girls, but anyone within a few feet also tends to have their gaze drawn to him.

Cynthia remembers Robin telling her that Morgan's powers are _less_ than a proper succubus. If this is less, she worries would happen if Lucina or Marc had their hoods down in public. Morgan is already disrupting everything around him by accident, Lucina or Marc would probably prompt unwanted advances with their stronger charms.

Eventually it gets to the point that Cynthia has to do something. She taps the boy on the shoulder to get his attention, and when he looks over she quickly mimes flipping his hood while whispering "everyone's staring!" He gets the message and pulls the fabric over his face as quickly as he can.

At the end of the day, when the Justice Cabal is parting ways for the week, Morgan grabs Cynthia and pulls her aside.

"So, uh…" He mumbles. "This sounds like a strange question, but…"

"Why did I tell you to put your hood back up?"

"Yeah. How'd you know I was going to ask that."

"Well…" The pegasus knight says, and glances around to make sure no one else is nearby. "You mom told me."

"What?"

"I know you're an incubus."

The boy blinks in surprise. "Mom told you?"

"Well it was a bit more complicated than that." She coughs. "But yeah, so I know about it now. I mean I've known for two weeks now, but it felt weird to pull you aside to tell you so I just sorta didn't…"

"Oh…" He mumbles nervously. "So, uh, sorry for any times I might have charmed you in the past. I know I'm not good at noticing when my hood is down."

"It's fiiiine." Cynthia hums. She decides to be a bit bold. "You're nice to look at, I wish you'd do it _more_."

Morgan goes slightly red, not that the pegasus knight can see. "Oh thanks. So, uh, yeah, just wanted to ask that. See you next week."

"See you!" Cynthia chirps.

Morgan turns around and starts to walk away, but a few seconds later he feels arms around his waist as he's squeezed tightly and lifted slightly off the floor. "Wha-?!"

"Your mom's orders!" The pegasus knight says cheerily. She's fighting to keep her voice peppy and not show the incredible nervousness she's actually feeling at such a brazen move. "I almost forgot she said you needed hugs, so here you go!"

She puts him back down on the grass. Morgan has no real idea how to respond to that, so he just says. "Uh, thanks."

"No problem!" Cynthia says with a wink. "See you next week, bye!"

"B-Bye." The confused tactician says.

As he walking home, Morgan is thinking through that conversation and the odd interaction afterwards. He can't fathom _why_ Mom chose to trust Cynthia, though he's not really complaining. Cynthia is fun, and it's always nice to have someone else who knows what he is so he doesn't have to worry as much.

Well that's all important, but what he's really stuck on is that Cynthia said he was nice to look at. He's an incubus, so of _course_ he's going to be nice to look at, but the compliment still gave him a fuzzy feeling in his stomach.

Morgan shakes his head vigorously, he has no idea what to think. Maybe he should talk to Lucy tomorrow. She'll know how to help him.

* * *

 **I think that's a good ending point. Both plotlines got the development they deserved I believe. This chapter was enjoyable to write, even Marc wasn't too bad (mostly because she got scolded for it though. I wouldn't have liked this chapter all that much if she got away with her sadism).**

 **Morgan is sooo cute. I rarely use him, but he's just awesome. Also any excuse to add Owain and/or Cynthia is great. Their over-dramatic speech is fun to write.**

* * *

 **LoveGlutton** **:** Well I never intended to make it a full-length story, and there is certainly potential, but if I'm going to be blunt I already have other ideas I'd like to make a full-length story for a lot more so when I decide to write one it won't be Pokemon in Fire Emblem.

That said I wanted to at least put the idea out there. We can always hope someone else will pick up the idea, even if it's unlikely.


	14. The Third Generation

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **So, a bit of context here. As you have all probably heard me mention** _ **multiple**_ **times there is this thing called "second generation replacement" that I'm going to be writing after Pokemon is done. That, as you might expect, is going to involve a** _ **lot**_ **of OC characters.**

 **That brings us around to the point of this chapter: I want to practice writing some of these OCs to make sure I know what I'm doing** _ **before**_ **that chapter comes around, so you're getting an early introduction to some of them. This isn't the first chapter of second gen replacement, it's… an AU I guess. A standalone that happens to feature the same characters.**

 **It's** _ **really**_ **hard to make new characters, so don't expect this chapter to be quite as good as what I would usually write. OC's are hard to do well, and it's even more difficult when you have half a dozen of them. This is pure experimentation.**

 **Also featuring Iniabi, a character beloning to** **SquidbaggerOfWoomyAndNgyesness as a guest star (because he helped me figure out what I wanted to do here). He's included just for fun, and will only appear in this chapter. No context needed, just view him like any other character and you'll be fine (because I've totally repurposed a bunch of things about him, so context wouldn't help anyways :P).**

 **Side note: there's a weird reason behind Iniabi's inclusion. SquidbaggerOfWoomyAndNgyesness was suggesting to me the idea of writing more OC characters, which I agreed to, but I was reluctant to use my own ideas so they offered up their own character for me to use/practice with (a very developed character that I have thoroughly butchered no doubt), but after some talk I came around to also including my own characters. However, since Squid had gone through the trouble of inspiring me and offering up one of his own characters (Iniabi) I decided to include him anyways because why not.**

 **So yeah, that's why we have my first (and probably only) guest star character here.**

* * *

"Iniabi! Get up bro!" The white-haired girl says as she shakes the boy awake. "Iniaaaabi!"

"What, what?" The blue-haired boy grunts as he sits up in bed. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and squints out the window. "Bello, it's still dark out…"

"Yeah! But _soon_ it won't be!" The tactician gushes. "It's the day Iniabi!"

"I know."

"We're gonna be Shepherds!"

"I know."

"We're-"

"Go back to sleep Bello." Iniabi sighs and drops his head back into his pillow.

"But-"

"Soner, tell her to go back to sleep."

"Bello, sleep." The older boy grunts from his own bed. "You still have four hours, and it does _not_ take four hours to get prepared."

"But-"

"I'll wake you up in time. Sleep."

"Okay…"

###

"Hey there smarty, I thought you would have been here earlier." The blue-haired prince sneers. "Sleep in for once?"

"Hey, _I_ wanted to get here early, but Soner and Iniabi were _lazy_." Bello huffs.

"No, we just happen to have _normal_ sleeping schedules." Iniabi murmurs.

"Sami. Did you remember your vulnerary?" Soner says.

The prince rolls his eyes. " _Yes_ , Soner."

"And your breastplate is on properly?"

" _Yes_ , Soner."

"And you have your backup weapon?

"For Naga's sake. _Yes,_ Soner." The prince groans. "I have my axe."

"He went through all that with us too." Iniabi chuckles. "Big brother instinct I guess."

"If that's what you name it, so be it. I won't have someone getting injured because they were foolish." The white-haired soldier says firmly. "Be that my brother, my sister, or _you_ Sami. You may as well be my little brother for all the times I've had to help you."

Sami scowls at the older boy and crosses his arms in a huff.

"Captain Lucina, am I-" A female voice calls as they run into the room. They stop upon seeing the group. "Ah, hello everyone. Am I-?"

"On time. A few minutes early." Soner says while glancing at the sundial out the window. "Hello Ventiel. You brought Gale with you, yes?"

"Of course! What sort of rider would forget their mount?" The pegasus knight huffs. "He's waiting in the stables."

"Now we just need Seraph…" Sami says, hiding the excitement in his voice.

" _She_ probably overslept." Bello chirps. "She's like me!"

"Except not excitable, anti-social, much more powerful, not blindly trusting-" Sami lists off.

"Hey! Being social is a good thing!" Bello protests.

"For other people maybe. From you it's annoying."

"Sami…" Bellow growls.

"Four eyes." The prince sneers and flicks the girl's glasses.

"Sami. What did I say about your behaviour?"

Sami stiffens immediately upon hearing his mother's voice. He turns to face her with a practiced, formal smile. "Only show your best side?"

"Which means _not_ bothering Bello." Lucina says in a disapproving voice as she frowns at her son. "Such behaviour is not befitting of a prince."

"Of course mother…" Sami says with a winning smile. The exalt narrows her eyes in suspicion. She is well versed in her son's false faces, and she doesn't buy this for a second.

"Soner." Lucina says.

"Yes Ma'am?"

"Keep my son in line."

"Hey!"

"Of course." Soner nods. A wry smile crosses his face. "I'll make sure my sister and my cousin don't tear each other apart."

"Thank you." Lucina sighs. "And I've told you before, just Lucina is fine. Or Aunt Lucina if you must."

"I'm on duty." The white-haired boy says in refusal. He straightens his back to be at full height. "And I shall address you properly during such times."

"You're too uptight bro. Hi Auntie!" Bello says cheerily as she waves at the Exalt.

"Hello dear. Are we just waiting on Seraph?"

"Yep!"

"I'm here…" The last member of the group grumbles. She shuffles through the door wearing her usual heavy black cloak that obscures her body while carrying her bulky Flux tome. "I'm on time, calm down." She says in a low, rumbling voice.

"Good, everyone is here." Lucina says. "Everyone has all their equipment?"

" _Yes_." Iniabi sighs. "Soner made sure of that."

"Good." The Exalt says approvingly. "Now, if you'll allow me a bit of preamble, you all know why you're here."

"We're joining the Shepherds!" Bello chirps excitedly.

"Well yes." Lucina says, hiding a grin at her niece's enthusiasm. "However, it is not a simple matter of being instated. And while you've all gone through training, you're yet to see real action."

"Except big bro!"

"Yes Bello, except Soner. But he's already a Shepherd." Lucina says placatingly. "Anyways-"

"We're getting a mission!"

"Yes, but-"

"Awesome!"

"Bello, please…" The Exalt sighs. "We've gotten a report of a small group of highwaymen harassing traffic along the main road to the border pass, and we have decided this would be a good mission to act as your initiation. You are to go to the designated coordinates on the map, track down the bandits, and bring them in for questioning. If they respond with violence defend yourselves as appropriate."

"We got a mission, we got a mission~!" Bello chants. "Oh, uh, auntie?"

"Yes?"

"Do we know how many of them there's supposed to be?"

"Half a dozen."

"Got it, okay…" The girl digs a map out of her cloak. "Can you mark down the location on my map?"

Bello may be excitable, but she's also a skilled tactician. She won't let her energy get in the way of her job.

"Is it just going to be the four of us?" Iniabi whispers to Sami, who shrugs.

"I hope so." He pats the steel blade on his hip with a grin. "I can't wait to prove how great I am. I bet those bandits will run in fear just upon _seeing_ the Prince of Ylisse."

"I wouldn't count on that…"

"Pff…" Sami huffs. "I'm plenty strong enough to scare them. Right Seraph?"

The prince grins at the dark mage, who raises an eyebrow and mutters. "Sure, we'll go with that."

"See? Seraph agrees."

Iniabi rolls his eyes. He's fairly sure Seraph doesn't care.

###

"Soner sir!"

"Yes Ventiel?"

"You are already a Shepherd, yes?"

"Indeed."

"So, if you do not mind my asking, why are you coming on this mission as well?"

"Well _someone_ has to keep an eye on you all in case things go wrong." Soner says frankly. "And the older Shepherds have decided that I am responsible enough to monitor you all."

"I see."

The two of them are at the front of the group, with the brown-haired pegasus knight walking with her mount rather than riding. No one else is trained for combat on a mount beside her, and they don't even have riding horses. The mission is only about a day's walk at least, but they'll still have to camp at least once.

"Hey Iniabi…"

"What sis?"

"Why'd you bring _that_ sword?" She asks, pointing at the sheath on his hip. "Isn't that the ornamental sword Uncle Owain got you for your birthday?"

"Erebus is _not_ ornamental." He huffs and pulls out the blade. It's a rather outlandish looking sword due to having a black blade with golden etching down the middle, and a deep red and gold hilt. It perfectly reflects their uncle's flair for the dramatic. "It's totally functional! Uncle Owain made sure of it!"

"But is it magic though?" Sami asks with a grin. "Mother has _Falchion_ after all."

Iniabi is _not_ in the mood for Sami's ego contest. "Yes, well, at least I _have_ an impressive sword." He says while gesturing to the plain steel blade and iron axe on the prince's hip. "Magic or otherwise."

The prince's lips purse and his brow furrows in annoyance, but he can't really deny that.

"Ooh, Seraph, Seraph!" Bello says, having already gotten bored of watching her brother and Sami square off. "Have ya read anything cool lately? Did you learn a new spell? I haven't talked to you in, like, five _days_!"

"Oh, the horror." The dark mage says dryly.

"I know, right?! So what's up?"

The black-haired girl sighs. She's not truly annoyed, Bello is just tiring to be around for someone as solitary as herself. "Grandmother sent me instructions for a new hex in the mail."

"Oooh, what does it do!?"

"Forces someone to vomit. Continuously. For three hours."

"Oh… nice!" Bello chirps. "Did ya test it?"

"Of course not. I don't go around hexing random people."

"You can-"

"I'm _not_ testing it on you." Seraph cuts off the excitale girl.

"But I'm volunteering!"

" _No_ Bello."

"Aww…"

###

As it turns out, there isn't much to on the march. The countryside, while fascinating at first, quickly loses it's magic after a dozen miles of identical treeline. Talk lasts only so long as well. Even Bello, chatty as she is, runs out of things to talk about halfway through the afternoon.

Soner is unsurprised when Sami starts complaining. The prince isn't exactly known for his patience.

"What are we supposed to _do_?" The blue-haired boy complains aloud. "We're just _walking_. This is boring as hell!"

"Is this really all there is too it big bro?" Bello asks. "We just walk and nothing happens?"

"Nothing happening is a _good_ sign." Soner grunts. "When you're a soldier, nothing happening means you're _not_ fighting for your life."

"So there's really nothing to do?" Sami whines.

"You can talk if you want. Otherwise no, not really." The older boy empathises with them, he really does. He had to deal with the same thing when he first joined the Shepherds. There's nothing to do but get used to the boredome. It's an annoying but necessary lesson. Inwardly he thinks they should be happy that he isn't telling them to keep in formation or to keep focused…

...but they're new to this, and he and Ventiel can keep lookout well enough. They've drilled and know how to fight properly. It's not a matter of issues taking orders or lack of discipline. They just need time to adjust. No need to go boot camp instructor on them.

That's what Sir Frederick is for anyways.

"How close are we sis?" Iniabi asks curiously. "Are we going to come upon them tonight?"

Bello pulls out her map and studies it. "We could if we pushed for it, but then we'd be fighting near nightfall. We don't want to get caught in the dark."

"Don't be ridiculous! Of _course_ we should push for it." Sami scoffs. "We all want this over with, don't we? If we wait for tomorrow, we might not get home by nightfall that day. We'd have to camp _again_ , and I don't think any of us want that."

"But it's risky!" Bello argues back.

"C'mon. It's the middle of summer! Days are long right now. We'd have enough time." The prince argues. "I'm not just complaining this time, think about it. Taking the bandits out tomorrow means they have the rest of today to attack more travellers! Even if it's inconvenient, it's our job to get this handled as quickly as possible, right?"

"So what was all that about not camping again then?" Seraph asks quietly.

"I figured it was more enticing to say 'hey, we won't have to camp again' then 'hey, let's do this because of _responsibility_ '." Sami shrugs. "Responsibility is annoying at the best of times. I was trying to appeal to something you were more likely to care about."

"Huh… that's surprisingly smart." Bello notes.

"Thanks." Sami says pridefully.

"For _you_."

"Hey…"

"Which one then?" Ventiel asks, casting a glance at Soner.

"Don't look at me. This is _your_ mission. I'm just here to make sure you all don't get killed." The older boy says. "Both choices have their benefits. Pushing and fighting tonight is a bit risky, but Sami is correct to say it has the chance of saving more travellers from being harrassed. Sleeping gives _us_ safety, so we'll be well-rested for the fight. However, there's no guarantee all the bandits will be at their camp during the day, and a few travellers might suffer for our delay."

"So clearly we go tonight." The prince says.

"There's no point in us fighting tonight if we're just going to screw up from being tired." The tactician argues back.

"We're trained, we're well-equipped, and adrenaline can make up for what little exhaustion we'll have! I'm not suggesting we spend the whole night looking for them or anything, just that if we see the opportunity we _should_ strike tonight." Sami counters. "We're supposed to be Shepherds, right? We're supposed to be _protectors_. If waiting means even _one_ more person gets robbed, then we're not doing our job."

"I agree with Sami…" Seraph mutters, much to the surprise of Bello. She though the dark mage would be all for not having more work today. "The sooner we can get this done, the better for everyone."

"We can't take that sort of risk." Iniabi disagrees. "Why should we risk someone getting seriously injured or killed? Sure, we might stop another robbery, but if one of us gets hurt then that's going to be worse for everyone as a whole. That's one less active Shepherd in the future, at least for a while, which makes everything more difficult."

"You say that as if Ylisse is in great danger." Ventiel murmurs. "This is a time of peace."

"Still. We don't _want_ one of us getting injured." Bello insists.

"Fair…" The pegasus knight mutters.

Soner quietly listens as this discussion unfolds behind him. They still have a few hours before a decision has to be made though, so he'll stay quiet and let them talk it out. They need to decide on a chain of command, and he's not going to interrupt.

###

Two hours later, no decision...

"You're just being stubborn Bello!"

"And you're just being stupid Sami!"

...and it's devolved from an intelligent argument to petty hurlings of insults.

Seraph an Iniabi have all but withdrawn from the conversation, and Vientiel occasionally attempts an intervention that inevitably ends in failure.

Everyone is surprised when Soner, after two hours of silence, finally speaks up.

"Choose." He says flatly, without looking back at the group. "The sun is falling. We have two hours. We either camp in the next ten minutes or push on to fight and camp afterwards."

This, of course, prompts a flurry of shouts and gestures from Sami and Bello. Predictably neither of them make any headway. There's no way either of them is going to budge in the other's direction.

"Allow me to ask something." The soldier says to the arguing pair. "Which of you I the leader?"

"I am!" They both say at the same time.

"Why?"

"I know the most about tactics and how to properly handle combat!" Bello barks. "I'm keeping us _alive_ through the mission, so we can do more in the future!"

"I've heard from commoners when my parents take questions or do surveys. I know the _price_ of slowing down." Sami snaps. "I'm making sure we put our job and the people of Ylisse before ourselves as Shepherds should!"

"And who's right?"

"I am!" They both say.

"Wrong." Soner says bluntly. "Figure it out. You're both smart enough. Also, eight minutes left."

The soldier smirks in satisfaction when he hears the two quickly talking in hushed voices as they try to figure out what he means. In less than a minute they've gone from arguing to working together. Surprisingly, neither gives into ego and insists that they are right anyway. Soner expected such pettiness out of Sami (given his _usual_ ego) but the prince actually doesn't do anything of the sort.

"If not you and not me, then who?" Bello whispers.

"Iniabi maybe?" Sami frowns.

"I think you're both missing the point." Seraph says in a low rumble. "I don't think it's another person."

"Is this a 'both of us are right' situation?" Bello suggests.

"But we can't be, not at the same time anyways." Sami reminds her.

"Maybe that's fine."

"Yeah, but then what do we choose?"

"I mean… we each disagree on what should be done, right?"

"Yeah."

"And the others are basically split even on the issue."

"Yeah. So what do we do? I mean, we could default to rank… which would be me." Sami mutters. "But… as much as I'm the Prince, I don't know everything."

"And I'm a tactician, and I certainly don't know everything." Bello sighs. "So what then? Rock paper scissors?"

"That's no way to solve a problem."

"I know… but do we have a better idea? I don't want _us_ getting killed."

"And I don't want _others_ getting killed."

"Can we do both?"

"How?"

"Uh… well, if we camp close enough to the road we can always warn any merchants going by. No one's going to leave the city this late in the day, so we can escort any merchants coming _into_ the city to prevent casualties."

"Okay…"

"Then we camp at sundown."

"Alright…"

"And get 'em the next morning."

"That's a surprisingly simple solution."

"Yeah I know… uh…"

"You were both too busy arguing to figure it out." Soner says bluntly. "However, no matter how long it took, you came to an acceptable conclusion. Do keep in mind, however, that we will be setting up camp in the dark if we follow this plan."

"I can make light." Seraph grunts. She pulls out her backup weapon, an Elfire tome. "I have a spell that can make some temporary lights with this tome."

"Good. Well then, let us wait for passers-by." Soner murmurs. "If we do find travellers to guard, then we should spread out." He pauses. "Actually… Ventiel. Would you mind flying up and seeing if you can spot anyone approaching?"

"Of course Sir." The girl nods. She leaps abroad her pegasus and the animal bounds into the air.

"This is a rather inelegant plan." Bello sighs. "But at least we both agree on it."

"I'd rather we take out the bandits tonight." Sami grumbles.

"And I'd rather we don't put ourselves in danger when we're tied." Bello replies. "But this is better than nothing."

"Sir! There's a small caravan approaching!" Ventiel calls as she returns from her brief sortie. "About ten minutes away!"

"Alright everyone." Soner grunts. "Be ready for more walking. It's a long day today."

###

"Pyrus Lumiaras." Seraph whispers. A dozen fireballs appear around her head, and the dark mage spaces them out to cover the camping area. "There… we have an hour."

"More than sufficient." Soner nods. "Can you spare one to start the fire?"

"Sure." She makes a grasping motion to pull one of the floating flames over, and directs it to the pile of wood.

"Thanks Ser." Sami yawns as he cozies up the fire. "Ugh, this mission sucks…"

"Welcome to being a soldier." Soner says flatly as he shifts around some of the firewood.

"Ugh…"

"Dinner will still be a bit, right?" Iniabi asks.

"Yes." Soner grunts. "It will take a while to make a proper cooking fire."

"Alright." The boy shrugs. He digs into his backpack, pulls out a book, flips to the mark, and settles down underneath one of the floating fireballs so he has overhead lighting.

This isn't unique to him. Bello too settles down to read with nothing else to do at the moment, as does Seraph. Ventiel is tending to Gale and brushing the horse's coat, which leaves just Sami without something to do.

Unfortunately the boy doesn't have many hobbies, and what hobbies he _does_ have are all physical like sword fighting and he's exhausted. The prince never thought he'd be _envious_ of someone reading, he's never been fond of books himself, but in this moment he wishes he had one just to have _something_ to do.

The prince sighs and lies back onto the grass. He watches Seraph flip through a thick book filled with small slips of paper jutting out from the top. It's her grandmother's personal tome. Lady Tharja passed it on when she found out her granddaughter was actually practicing dark magic.

Sami knows form a few incidents in the past regarding some particularly intolerant council members who dislike the girl's plegian heritage that Seraph is _well_ versed in some particularly nasty curses. He once had the honor of seeing the girl curse a prominent duke to speak in falsetto for a full week.

No one could take the council meetings seriously. Sami's mother was not amused, but Uncle Morgan sure was.

Sighing, the prince settles in to rest. There's nothing to be done about it. At least the stars are starting to come out so he'll have something to look at.

###

"Get up everyone." Soner barks. "If we want to find those bandits before anyone leaves the city, we have to get moving!"

"It's _early_ …" Sami complains as he slides out of his bedroll. The sun is _barely_ up.

"Welcome to the life-"

"-of a soldier. I know." The prince grumbles. "Ugh…"

The entire group is tired, but they flumble their way to packing up their things and scarfing down a quick breakfast of nuts and bread. There's no time to cook soup like last night's dinner, so they only get preserved foods.

"Alright." Bello says as soon as everyone's eaten. "So, here's the plan. Ventiel, you should walk with us. Seeing a pegasus knight would be a dead giveaway to the bandits that there are soldiers around."

"Of course, that is fair." She nods. "I will lead Gale on foot."

"Good. Everyone, keep an eye out for trampled greenery or broken branches off the side of the road! That might be where the bandits have come through before, so we can use those clues to lead us to their camp." Bello orders.

So in the early morning sunlight the group travels slowly down the road, looking for signs of disturbance in the surrounding area. Iniabi finds himself on one side of the road as peers into the shrubbery a few feet away. His hand twitches on the hilt of his blade when he sees something dart by, but it's just a squirrel.

Unlike the first day there's minimal talk between the group. Speech is limited to commands or pointing out something unusual. Ventiel's sharp eye is particularly noteworthy here, as she constantly points out small details the others miss.

"There!" The pegasus knight barks and points off into the trees about forty minutes into the search. "Some uprooted grass and a ruined shrub. There is also a notch in the tree; I am assuming something hit it."

The group trundles into the grass to investigate these clues. Soner confirms that the notch in the tree seems to be from a weapon, a mace specifically. It has a cut in the center of the smashed area which is a tell-tale sign on the protrusions that make up the mace head being driven into the wood.

The uprooted grass and shrubs also bear signs of a struggle. There are drag marks in the dirt and numerous piles of dirt that must have resulted from someone kicking the ground.

"Someone must have been dragged way, _literally_ kicking and screaming." Iniabi surmises. He glances to his older brother, who nods in agreement.

"At least the path won't be hard to follow." Seraph murmurs in a moment of slightly dark humor.

The path becomes a bit less apparent the further they get from the road. The drag marks disappear after a while, and the trampled grass becomes a little less obvious. At some points Ventiel's keen eyesight is absolutely necessary to avoid guesswork.

Then Iniabi hears something. Their group is quiet, but he hears voices. He holds up his hand, catching the others' attentions, and cups his hand at his ear and points off to the side.

Soner takes point now. Being the most heavily armored of the group (not an armor knight, but he has a metal chestplate, grieves, bracers, and an undershirt of chainmail) he's a natural frontline. Bello quickly whispers orders to get everyone in formation. She orders Sami and Iniabi to follow just behind Soner while she and Seraph take the rear. Ventiel is to stay in the back until the fighting starts, at which point she'll take to the air and join the battle as best she can.

Trees and pegasi don't mix very well unfortunately. It's hard to dive at an opponent through branches. Bello fully expects Ventiel to not be very useful here.

A dozen bandits come into view, giving them a two-to-one manpower disadvantage. Bello notes the lack of bows or magic, which is something she can abuse. The bandits will have no good way to take out her or Seraph which will allow them to shower them with spells uninterrupted.

"Easy fight." Bello whispers to everyone. "Front line, keep them occupied. Me and Seraph will deal most of the damage here."

"Understood." Soner grunts.

"Let's sneak around the back of them." Iniabi whispers. "With a sneak attack, we can reduce the chance one of us gets injured."

"Good call." Bello murmurs. They're currently approaching the bandits from the side. "Let's wait for them to move along a little bit, then we can easily swoop in from the back."

They do so. It doesn't take long. Adrenaline starts to flood their bodies as the group draw their weapons. When they get close enough for Bello's satisfaction she nods to her eldest brother and the three boys of the group charge forwards while Ventiel takes to the air.

Two brigands die instantly. One from a spear through the chest, and the other from a pair of sword slashes to the stomach and neck. The screaming of the two brigands alerts the others, and the element of surprise is lost.

Ventiel struggles to get into the fight on her mount. The branches pose an issue to Gale's massive wings. Eventually Ventiel just gives up, dismounts Gale, and charges in with her spear.

Bello shoots a few bolts of thunder, but she's mostly just letting Seraph deal the damage. The dark mage tears apart her foes with brutally powerful Flux attacks. The magical shadows consume whatever they touch, and most of Seraph's targets die from having their head or chest engulfed by the darkness and consumed, leaving a bloody headless corpse or a body who looks like its heart was torn out. The area around Seraph visibly dims despite the sunlight pouring in due to the sheer amount of dark magic she's putting out from her attacks.

If the bandits weren't already panicked from being attacked, seeing their leader's head suddenly _get eaten by by shadows_ certainly sends them over the edge. The remaining five bandits split and run in different directions trying to escape the same gruesome fate.

"Vincula Umbra…" Seraph whispers in a distorted voice and thrusts a hand forward. Streams of black shadows emerge from her fingertips, and latch onto three of the bandits. The shadows coil all around them, binding them like chains and dragging them to the ground.

There's a reason people are afraid of dark mages. While a mage of appropriate power could do what Seraph has, the fact that she casts shadows that _eat_ people and makes dark chains is infinitely more terrifying than fire and a generic 'hold person' spell.

Sami, Soner, and Iniabi chase down the last two bandits. Being the least armored of the three, Iniabi is the first to catch up and slashes at the bandit's legs to cripple them, and the two men fall to the ground with pained shouts. Iniabi kicks away the bandits' weapons as Sami and Soner catch up.

"So, uh… are we going to have to carry them now?" Sami grunts.

"Probably." Soner sighs. "Well, so be it. Good job Iniabi."

The group gathers together the remaining bandits together. There's still five of them that the group is going to have to carry back to the nearby city to be imprisoned.

"I don't suppose you have a spell for that?" Sami asks Seraph. The girl shakes her head, and the Prince sighs. "Well alright then. You two!" He points to two of the able-bodied bandits. "Carry them." He gestures to the two men Iniabi crippled.

The bandits reluctantly comply and lift up their injured comrades.

"There. Now let's get this over with so we can go back and tell mother of my heroics." Sami smirks.

" _Your_ heroics?" Bello scoffs.

"Fine, mine and Seraph's." The prince says pridefully.

"You say that like Ventiel wasn't instrumental in actually _finding_ them." Iniabi says reproachfully.

"Well…"

"And like Bello didn't make the tactics."

"Yes, but-"

"And that Soner didn't make dinner, and pack breakfast, and charge in first." The blue-haired boy continues. "Shall I go on?"

"Okay, so _everyone_ did something." The prince admits with a grunt. "Fine."

"You just want to say you did a lot because _your_ mother is in charge of the Shepherds."

"No…" Sami says very unconvincingly.

Iniabi hides a smile. "Sure, whatever you say."

###

"Hey kids!" Morgan says as the group walks back into the barracks. The man immediately swoops on his three children and pulls them all into a hug (much to Bello's delight and Soner's embarrassment. Iniabi is neutral) "How'd it go?"

"We succeeded, obviously." Bello chirps.

"Well I'd hope so. It was an easy mission." Kjelle, their mother, huffs. "No complications?"

"Well…" Bello mutters. "It took a bit to decide on a plan."

"She and Sami argued for two hours." Iniabi recounts, much to Bello and the Prince's dismay.

"I expected nothing less." Morgan says with an amused smile. He glances to his oldest. "Soner, anything to note?"

"Do we get to keep the reward?" The boy asks with a dry smile as he holds up a coin pouch. "Did you know there was a reward?"

"Nope. Cool though. Did you split it yet?"

"So we _can_ keep it?" Sami asks eagerly. He then realizes he might be acting a bit inappropriately for a royal, and quickly changes his act. "Erm... I mean, Sir Vastatio, to where shall this cash be put?"

"To the Shepehrds of course." The tactician holds back a laugh when the Prince's face visibly falls. "Sorry, that how soldier life works. You don't get to keep any of the rewards you earn. They all go to the army."

"Being a soldier sucks." The prince growls.

"Not like I didn't warn you about this." Soner grunts.

"Please don't tell me you spent the entire time telling them being a soldier was awful." The boy's father sighs.

"No… just some of the time." The spearman huffs.

"Did you tell the Exalt that you were back?" Kjelle asks with narrowed eyes.

"We sent a messenger." Soner nods.

"Oh, uh, you were actually supposed to go see her right away after you got back." The tactician coughs. "I suppose no one ever told you that before you left."

"We better get going then." Ventiel sighs. "It's almost dark out."

"No more walking…" Seraph grumbles. "Please…"

"Just a little bit more." Morgan laughs. "Get going kids."

"Fine…"

###

"Ah, there you are. I was about to send a messenger out to get you." Exalt Lucina says from her spot on the throne.

Sami notes, with no small amount of nervousness, that his father and grandparents are also standing just behind the throne. Gerome, Chrom, and Robin are all standing just behind Sami's mother. Ventiel's parents are also here. Cynthia and Laurent are just off to the side.

Morgan and Kjelle (who were actually just about to come here before the group walked into the barracks) are also here because they followed the group.

Several of the other Shepherds are also here. Frederick, looking stern as always, stands off to the side with Lissa. Cordelia and Sumia are both there as well, as are Severa, Cynthia, and the younger Cynthia too (Due to time travel shenanigans there are older and younger versions of _several_ people. Those who were born naturally in this world are the younger ones, and those from the future are the older ones).

Cynthia the Younger waves at Iniabi, who subtly waves back. They're friends.

"We apologize for the delay Mother." Sami says with formality that is unusual to him. "However, we have returned successful."

"Good…" The exalt nods serenely. "Soner? Can you verify this?"

"It is as he says your Highness." Soner says with a deep bow. "We were successful. There were a few growing pains, but the mission was executed well otherwise."

"I see…"

"We also obtained a reward from the city, which I understand is to go to the Shepherds as a whole." Soner says, holding up the pouch of money.

"Of course. Hand it to quartermaster Frederick after the ceremony." Lucina nods.

The old quartermaster, a man called Emmet the group has met only once, moved to Chon'sin and Frederick replaced him. The man is no less fanatic in his training despite technically being a non-combatant according to his job.

"Now, seeing as your mission was successful, that leaves only one thing to do." The Exalt says and stands up from her throne. She strides down to the group, standing as tall as she can over them. In truth Lucina isn't very tall, Soner is taller than her, but she still cuts an impressive figure with her cape to create a large silhouette. She draws Falchion from its sheath, and speaks in a booming voice to the group. "Kneel."

The group (minus Soner, he steps aside) does as they are told. They all kneel nervously, with their eyes towards the floor.

"I now pronounce all of you…" Lucina says slowly, tapping her sword three times on each of them. Both shoulders and the head. "...Shepherds."

From the outside it looks like a simple thing: a few movements of her sword and a couple words, but the impact on the group is significant. Bello is giddy with excitement, Iniabi poorly hides a smile, Ventiel is failing to hold her usual strict calm expression, Sami is unabashedly smirking, and Seraph…

...well Seraph just hates the attention. She's happy otherwise though.

* * *

 **Okay, ending here.**

 **This is a mediocre chapter. Sami is inconsistent in his attitude, Ventiel is irrelevant for the most part, and the plot is kinda meh. Still, it was fun. Hopefully this will make the later chapters on Second Generation Replacement better than they would have been otherwise.**

 **As for why Lucina is the Exalt and not Chrom… well I thought it fit the story. If you want an in-universe reason: Chrom's health started to deteriorate from the stress of being Exalt and from a particularly nasty illness. He passed the title onto Lucina about seven years before the current events and retired along with Robin for the sake of his physical and mental health.**

 **Again, you'll see all of these characters again (except Iniabi, he's just here as a guest character for fun) when Second Generation Replacement comes around. What do y'all think? I don't pretend to be a master at creating original characters (or writing other people's original characters), so I'm fully expecting a mixed response here.**

* * *

 **UmiNight Angel Neko** **:** Well in this case it's literally because of magic, but yeah.

 **Stuff** **:** I mean… I'll put it on the list. I guess that's no too out of character for Noire (see her supports with Inigo) but I've never written a stalker character before…

 **LoveGlutton** **:** Well, there are plenty of ideas to come, both in this and _The Robin Variable_.

 **Bakururu** **:** Yeah, same here. She's a major reason why I don't pick male Robin when I play actually.

Also yes, Male Morgan is _definitely_ under-appreciated.


	15. Pokemon in Fire Emblem 8

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **You know how this goes. I'm not saying it again.**

* * *

They were already winning, but having a Staraptor and its rider suddenly dive into the fight on their side is plenty welcome. Sumia seems to recognize the rider, calling out "Cordelia!" when she sees her.

Robin assumes this 'Cordelia" is on their side and doesn't spare more thought on it. This fight is already a stomp, there's little need for strategy. Even Plegia's powerful Charizard riders fall before the might of the Shepherds!

Donnel's Rockruff is actually hugely powerful in this fight. Charizard having a four times weakness to rock makes them hilariously susceptible to even a relatively weak move like Rock Throw. Rockruff now has several kills under its belt from knocking them out of the sky.

The fight finishes, and Robin goes off to find the new girl. She quickly locates Cordelia (who is a apparently a hot redhead; nice…) who is giving a report to Emmeryn and Chrom. Robin is offended! Why wasn't she involved in this? She's the _tactician_.

She waits about a minute as the group finishes the conversation, and then slides up beside Chrom as he's walking away.

"Chrooom." She pouts. "Why are you having secret meetings with a hot redhead behind my back? Why wasn't _I_ invited?"

"It wasn't a _secret_ meeting Robin." The prince chuckles. "I had full intention of reporting to you what she said."

"What? Who cares about _that_?" Robin scoffs. "The girl Chrom! I wanted to talk to the hot redhead!"

Chrom suppresses a laugh. "Well you'll have plenty of opportunities later. She's joining the Shepherds."

"Really?!" The tactician gasps. She's _delighted_.

"Yes…" The prince's face falls a bit. "Though not for a happy reason. Her entire squad was killed in action, she is the sole survivor. She is being given to us because of her skill, yes, but also because she no longer has a team."

"Oh… so I should wait a bit if I want to hit on her." Robin ponders irreverently.

"Robin…" Chrom says disapprovingly.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." The black-haired girl sighs. "Wait at least a month before asking her on a date."

"What? No." Chrom sighs. "Robin-"

"I know Chrom." The tactician says placatingly. "I'm joking… mostly. I'm not going to be that rude, she just lost all her friends. That said, I might _eventually_ ask her out. You can't deny me that."

"Fine, fine." Chrom says. On a lighter tone, he asks. "What happened to _me_ being the hot one? Or Emm?"

"C'mon, you're both _royalty_ Chrom." Robin scoffs. "Hot people are already tough to get because so many people like them, going after _royals_ is just setting the bar way too high. I gotta be realistic!"

"I see." Chrom's expression is hard to read. "If you say so Robin."

###

"Emm, you can't go!" Lissa says as she and Audio cling to her sister. "It's not safe!"

"I have to agree with Lissa." Chrom says. He's standing nearby with crossed arms and an apprehensive expression. Lucario stands just behind him looking serious and stoic as always, but the Pokemon's clenched fists betray some level of tension.

"I cannot leave our people alone in their time of need." Emmeryn murmurs as she pats her sister on the back reassuringly. "I will be fine Lissa, Chrom."

"Don't take Squishy from me!" Robin whines as she stubbornly clings to Blissey. The Happiness Pokemon also pats the tactician on the back, though this situation is _significantly_ less important than the one happening just a few feet away with the royal siblings. "I'll miss you Squishy!"

"Blissey." The pokemon says with a calm smile.

"Stay safe! You're so fun to hug, I don't want to lose you!" Robin says dramatically. She's somewhat serious of course, she doesn't want Blissey hurt, but she's making light of it so as to not bring the mood down too much. "Keep Emmeryn safe too, it'd be a shame to lose someone with such a nice body!"

Blissey lightly hits Robin on the head for that last comment, but otherwise nods in understanding. Frederick _glares_ at Robin from just off to the side while Virion nods sagely (and winces at the kick Sully delivers to his shin).

"Frederick. Keep my siblings safe." Emmeryn murmurs.

"Of course my lady." Frederick nods. "I will endeavour to keep them safe as best I can, be it from bandits, disorganization…" his eyes trail to Robin "...or corruption from their tactician."

Robin sticks out her tongue. "I know what I like. You're just a prude."

"As I said, corruption from the tactician." Frederick repeats dryly.

"Thank you Frederick." A smile crosses her face. "And you too Robin."

"Huh?" The tactician blinks, confused.

"I know you bring a certain level of levity to my brother's life, and I appreciate it." The Exalt says, and actually gives the girl a small bow. "As I'm sure he does too."

"Even though I'm a bit… crude? Perverted?" The girl clarifies suspiciously. She's well aware her attitude is frowned upon by the serious members of the Shepherds, and assumed Emmeryn fell into that category.

"Yes, even then." Emmeryn chuckles. "Your honesty is refreshing."

"See Frederick! I'm _refreshing_!" Robin shouts at the knight while grinning from ear to ear. "Embrace your honesty! Share your thoughts!"

"I already do. However I am not a ball of hormones like yourself." Frederick grunts. "Please Milady, do not encourage her…"

"Of course Frederick." Emmeryn smiles. "Chrom, take care of your sister."

"You know I will."

"Robin, Frederick, please take care of Chrom."

"Understood."

"Sure! Can't let that handsome face get roughed up…"

"Lissa… keep taking care of _everyone_. You do so much, and I can see they all appreciate it."

The princess sniffs. "O-Okay… be safe."

"Lucario, Audino. Keep my siblings out of _unnecessary_ trouble."

"Lu."

"Audino!"

"My lady, we need to leave." Philia whispers.

"Of course, my pardon." The exalt stands up to full height. "Blissey, I need you to go in your ball. We'll be riding on Swanna."

"Blissey!" The large pink pokemon vanishes into red light, and Robin falls face-down onto the floor from the disappearance of the Pokemon she was holding.

"No… my squishy…" Robin whines while reaching out an arm. "Come back…"

The Shepherds watch as Emmeryn is flown off back towards Ylisstol. Lissa leans nervously against her brother, who supports the shaky girl.

"Hey! Why is no one supporting _me_?" Robin grunts as she picks herself out of the dirt. "No fair, I'm distraught too! Why don't I get a hot prince helping me up? Or a hot chick? That would be fine too…"

###

"Is that a Salamence?" Chrom says in disbelief as he watches the dragon dive bomb the Grimleal below. "Who has a _Salamence_? They're incredibly rare."

"Let's go find out!" Robin says eagerly as she rushes ahead. "I wanna ask if I can ride it after this!"

The Shepherds rush over the sand as best they can. The mounted Shepherds are having trouble moving (unless they're fliers of course) but it's unlikely the Shepherds' full might will be needed anyways. The Salamence is _wrecking_ the unfortunate Grimleal all on its own, and it would seem it already has some help in the form of an orange-haired middle-aged man and a Hitmonchan.

"Hitmonchan, be using Sky Uppercut!" The man barks. The Punching Pokemon takes two quick steps forward and slams a Dark Mage in the chin with a sharp punch with a glowing blue fist.

Chrom would prefer _not_ to think about how the man's head got punched clean off in great detail. Vaike, on the other hand…

"Man, did you see that Machamp?!"

"Champ!"

"Can you do that too?!"

The pokemon grins and gives a thumbs up. It charges a the nearest Grimleal who scramble away in a panic after hearing that exchange with Vaike hot on their heels.

"Altaria! Now is not the time!" Sumia cries as her mount flutters around Sawsbuck's head. "Let me ooon!"

"I love the Shepherds sometimes." Robin cackles. " _Glorious_ chaos!"

"Aren't you a tactician? Aren't you supposed to be _controlling_ this chaos?" Chrom asks in exasperation.

"Only if we won't win because of it!" The girl says with a mad grin. She turns her head and shouts "C'mon Absol! I bet I can get more of them than you!"

The tactician and her pokemon dash off to one side towards a group of Ryhorn riders, and Chrom reluctantly follows behind. They _might_ not need his and Lucario's help, but even if Robin is super confident Chrom wants to be sure his friend won't get _over_ confident and get injured.

###

"I'm Nowi!" The girl, formerly a Salamence, chirps.

"You can turn into a _dragon!_ " Robin gasps. "Can I ride on your back!"

"Robin, please, not now." Chrom coughs. "I'm sorry about-"

"Sure!" Nowi grins. "Do you want me to go fast?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Can the Vaike ride too?!"

"Machamp!?"

"Sure! I can fit several people!" Nowi laughs. "Anyone else!"

"Ah fuck it, me too!" Sully shouts with a grin.

"We _are_ supposed to be making progress." Frederick reminds everyone sharply.

"Then we'll fly and, uh, _keep watch_." Robin grins. "Quick Nowi, before he ruins everything!"

"Yes ma'am!" The girl laughs and quickly morphs into her Salamence form. Everyone who wanted to piles on, eager to escape Frederick's disapproving gaze.

"Last chance Chrom!" Robin call to the prince. "You in or out?"

The glare from Frederick tells him what he _should_ choose… but Chrom can't deny he's curious. "Well… alright."

He accepts a hand up onto Nowi's back from Robin, and Nowi quickly takes off so they can escape Frederick's disapproval.

Chrom _immediately_ realizes that flying doesn't suit him, or more accurately the extreme speed of Nowi doesn't suit him. The girl makes absurdly sharp turns and incredibly steep dives at speeds unrivaled by the other fliers the Shepherds have.

The prince squeezes his eyes shut as Nowi takes another steep dive. Air rushes past his face and some flecks of sand sting his skin, and he grips the dragon's neck in front of him as tightly as he can.

He's glad he's up front so no one can look back and see his panic.

The prince is a bit surprised when he feels an arm go around his waist and Robin pull herself against his back so she can get her mouth up to his ear. "Isn't this great!?"

"Sure." Chrom grunts.

"Gonna have to speak up Chrom!"

"Sure!" He shouts.

"You don't _sound_ enthusiastic!"

"Maybe this was a bad idea…" Chrom mutters tensely under his breath. He still hasn't opened his eyes.

He suddenly feels a pair of lips tugging at his earlobe and quickly twists his head around to look at her. "What-"

"Made ya open them!" Robin cackles unabashedly.

"How did you know!?"

"You were either staring at her back while hunched over, or you weren't looking at _anything_ because your eyes were closed." Robin states matter-of-factly. "Also, I can just move my head to the side and see your face, so…"

"Ah."

"You're still hot when you're flustered by the way. I'd say you're more 'cute' when you're panicking though." Robin says with a sagely nod. "Which is a pretty good thing."

And so returns her usual brand of randomness. "Uh... thanks?"

"Hey Nowi! Do another dive!"

" _You got it!_ "

"Gods no…"

"I'll hold you tight this time so you don't get _scared_." Robin laughs teasingly in his ear. She does, in fact, tightly wrap her arms around his chest, and Chrom reluctantly admits to himself that it helps his nerves a bit.

He still squeezes his eyes closed when they go into the dive. But hearing Robin's laughter in his ear makes it a lot more tolerable.

* * *

 **Okay, so this chapter wasn't really that Pokemon centric. I still like it though.**

* * *

 **SquidbaggerOfWoomyAndNgyesness** **:** Oh good. I did a bit of research beforehand on him (reading some chapters he appeared in for your stories) so I was _fairly_ sure it wasn't too far off. He was fun to use.

 **LoveGlutton** **:** Parentage might switch up a bit when I use them for Second Generation Replacement, but in this case Bello, Soner, and Iniabi are from Morgan and Kjelle, Sami is from Lucina and Laurent, Ventiel is from Cynthia and Gerome, and Seraph is from Noire and Brady.

 **bwburke94 :** Don't worry, they'll all be fully re-introduced. That chapter was just practice, so it was more for _me_ than anything.


	16. Pokemon in Fire Emblem 9

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **Gettin' close to the end here.**

* * *

"Aha, the guests of honor have arrived!" Gangrel laughs from his spot on the top of the wall. "Welcome Prince and Princess of Ylisse! You're just in time for the main event!"

"Gangrel!" Chrom shouts back. "Today will be your end! Neither Ylisse nor Plegia will have to suffer you any longer before the sun falls!"

"Bold words Prince, but you're outnumbered!" The king cackles. "And I have a few more cards to play!"

The king turns around and calls to someone in the keep. A moment later the Shepherds can see a pokeball being thrown over the wall, and what pops out is worrisome.

"Tyranitar." Robin growls as the wind starts to whip up into a sandstorm. "Well fuck."

"Does your plan still hold?" Chrom asks quickly. "Can we still rescue Emmeryn?"

"It should." The tactician mutters as she quickly makes some mental adjustments. "We need heavier interference to protect Sumia and Cordelia from that Tyranitar though. Rock Slide will _wreck_ them."

"Then we head for Tyranitar first." Chrom says grimly. "If we can get Lucario an opening, he can take it down in short order."

The old pokemon nods seriously. For once it's not glaring at Robin, and instead gives her a determined look. The tactician has a feeling this isn't the first Tyranitar the Aura Pokemon has killed.

"Or just any fighting type." Robin mutters. "But Lucario is the most skilled. Alright then." She raises her voice over the now violently loud wind. "Everyone, change in plans! Fighting types front and center! Frederick, Stoutland is a Sand Rusher, right?"

"Yes."

"You two, Donnel, and Rockruff's job is get the Fighting types to Tyranitar and take it out." Robin order. "Fliers, you're staying further back than planned. Tyranitar will destroy you all, even you Nowi."

"Fine…"

"You're running interference and protecting our backside until someone takes out Tyranitar. When the sandstorm stops, that means Tyranitar is dead and your return to the original plan!" Robin barks. "Clear?"

"Clear!" Cordelia shouts affirmatively.

"Everyone else, standard battle formations! We're covering the strike squad and keeping others off their backs as much as possible! Virion, Starmie, Miriel, Alakazam, Ricken, Elgyem, _any_ archers, wind mages, Ice, and Rock types need to die _fast_ after that sandstorm is down!" Electric types are an issue for Staraptor, but the other flying Shepherds are part dragon and as such don't have a weakness to it. Ice is the major issue, though Robin doubts there are going to be any ice types here.

"You have our word it will be so!" Virion says with a flourish that's barely visible through the billowing sand.

"Alright everyone." Robin says grimly as she pulls out her Arcthunder. "Let's move!"

###

"Naga give me strength…" Libra murmurs as he cuts down another Plegian soldier. "And save your soul…"

"Medi!" His companion shouts in warning as a ball of black energy shoots their way. The Meditate pokemon shoves the War monk out of the way of the attack before assuming a defensive stance and side-stepping the attack with Detect.

"Mmm… that's impressive." A raspy voice says. The source is obscured by the sand. "Most people and Pokemon can't avoid that so easily. Sneak attacks usually work quite well."

"I cannot take credit for such a thing." Libra says honestly. "Medicham is to thank for my survival."

Medicham gives him a pointed look that clearly says " _we shouldn't be talking, we should be fighting._ "

"Hmm… well, I'm not interested in getting hurt fighting for some tyrant." The voice mutters. "Me and my pokemon leave you be if you do the same."

That is not what Libra expected. "If you think Gangrel a tyrant, then perhaps you would be interested in helping to depose him?"

"You'd trust _me_?"

"Trust is a stretch, but I share our Exalt's vision of peace, and I would start by at least giving you a chance to prove yourself." Libra says honestly.

There's no response for a moment. The sandstorm howls around Libra and Medicham, stinging their skin. A few seconds more pass, and two shapes emerge from the sand to stand before them. One is a female dark mage with the usual skimpy attire, but also with a tight mesh covering her head to block the sand. The other figure is her pokemon. It looks like a large coffin with ghostly arms emerging from it, and an eerie smiling face that peers through a gap near the head.

"Well, count me surprised." The dark mage chuckles darkly. "I was expecting you to attack on sight."

"Even after my offer?"

"Those of the Naga faith are no stranger to quick lies and deception, no matter how much they pretend they aren't." She mutters. "I expected this to be a cheap trick so you could try and kill me."

"Yet you come anyways?" Libra questions.

The girl snickers. "I don't need to fight from a distance. Nosferatu and Cofagrigus protection make me plenty durable. Looks are deceiving, monk."

"I see." Libra nods. "However, as I have not betrayed you, do you truly intend to accept my offer?"

The girl eyes him for a moment, then nods cautiously. "Yes. I wasn't exactly lying after all."

"Ylisse appreciates your help, and if you care not for Ylisse than at least _I_ appreciate it." Libra says with a bow. "I am Libra, this is Medicham."

"Med."

"Tharja, Cofagrigus." The girl grunts. "Now, follow me. There's some royal Ylissian brats attacking the other side of the fort. If we want to be helpful, then it might be a good idea to go to them…"

"A fine plan. Please, lead the way miss Tharja."

###

"Tyranitar, Earthquake!" The Armor Pokemon's trainer shouts. The massive pokemon raises a leg and stomps the ground. The foot effortlessly bypasses the foot of sand on the ground before making contact with the stone below and shaking the ground around it.

"Hey Champ, Wide Guard!" Vaike shouts. The Superpower Pokemon grins and takes a firm stance. It spreads out its hands and fingers as much as possible, and a giant purple field emerges that spreads a good dozen meters in each direction. The ground in front of the shield breaks and splinters, leaving sharp rocks jutting out of the ground, but behind the shield the Shepherds only experience a minor rocking and no actual damage.

"Lucario, Close Combat!" Chrom orders as soon as the quake is over. The old pokemon dashes across the jutting rocks, nimbly finding footholds to propel itself, and unleashes a devastating series of punches and kicks into the Armor Pokemon.

Despite Tyranitar's incredible toughness, the double weakness to fighting is its undoing. Lucario's spiked fist cracks right through the stomach armor of the behemoth, and Tyranitar slowly falls to the ground. Despite its massive size and weight, it lands with almost no noise thanks to the sand.

Almost immediately the sandstorm starts to fade, and the ranged Shepherds get to work. Arrows, spells, and special attacks fly as they can finally see beyond ten feet in front of them.

Robin, who's standing back, finally gets a clear view of the battlefield. She's surprised to see a war monk, a dark mage, and their pokemon fighting off a small group of Plegian soldiers in a nearby fort. It seems like they might have some allies.

"Chrom! To your right! I think we have allies!" Robin calls. "Virion, how are you doing?"

"We are close dear Tactician!" The man shouts as he fires arrow after arrow. "In just a moment, you will have your safe skies!"

Robin turns to look at the fliers, and is surprised to see the three girls engaged with a group of Charizard riders. "Virion, I need to borrow Starmie for a moment!"

"As you wish!"

Robin quickly instructs Starmie to help the fliers, and the Mysterious Pokemon starts dropping Thunders on the unfortunate Charizards and their riders.

It turns out Starmie's only water move is Scald, which doesn't quite have the range of Thunder, so instead of using the move that gives it the Same Type Attack Bonus (known as STAB) it goes for the choice that allows it to attack from a safer distance.

Through all the chaos of the fight, Gangrel watches from his position on the wall. He's not terribly surprised when Tyranitar goes down, but it is a bit disappointing to see the Charizard brigade so easily defeated.

"Raichu?"

"No. We're not dirtying our hands today." The king chuckles. "Even if all our soldiers fall, we still win."

"Rai." The pokemon smirks.

Emmeryn is also watching all this. Her hair is dirtied from the sand, and her garb is in disarray form the wind. Her eyes sting, no longer from the sand but from emotion, as she watches her siblings and the Shepherds fighting their way to the keep. It's a futile fight, Gangrel could have her dead at any moment if he wanted to, but Chrom and Lissa are trying anyways.

Truly she does not deserve such wonderful siblings.

###

"I'm sure you're very proud of yourselves." Gangrel snickers as the Shepherds stand at the entrance to the keep. "You fought your way past all my troops, slew a Tyranitar, and defeated my Charizard brigade. Bravo, bravo!" He claps mockingly at the group.

"You're done Gangrel! Surrender, and return Emmeryn to us!" Chrom shouts.

"Done? Hah!" Gangrel barks. "I have one more trick Princeling!"

That's Aversa's signal, and she doesn't disappoint. There's a flare of magic energy, and a low black fog suddenly seeps out from the fort and starts spreading across the courtyard and out into the desert. As it moves it curls into the mouths of all the dead soldiers lying around, and to the Shepherds' horror the corpses suddenly lurch to their feet once more. The eyes of the new Risen burn red, and the color of their skin rapidly shifts from pale to grey.

"Surprise!" The mad king cackles. "Oh, I just _love_ dark magic!"

"Damnit..." Robin growls. "We're surrounded, and those archers are back."

"Ab. Absol."

"I know, I know, I'm thinking…"

"Now, perhaps we should renegotiate." Gangrel says mockingly. Raichu gives him an incredulous look, and he bursts out laughing. "Oh, who am I kidding? I want you all dead!"

"Gangrel!" Emmeryn shouts from her position up on the tall bone spike. Her voice carries far and loud thanks to her height. "There is no chance for peace between us or our nations?"

"Of course not!" The king spits. "Ylisse deserves what is coming to it, as do it's people, and that includes _all of you_!" He gestures to the Shepherds as a whole, as well as Emmeryn herself. "Plegia will have its price for the wounds Ylisse gave her! "

"You would condemn innocents to death for the sins of the nobles?" Emmeryn argues back. "My father was corrupt, his council was corrupt, my people are not to blame. Blame me if you must, but surely you can see the folly in your thoughts.

Gangrel actually pauses, and there's a moment where a look of confusion crosses his face. Raichu, who had been eagerly bouncing from foot to foot, turns to glance at its trainer with a curious expression.

Suddenly the king's smile grows wide, his head jerks unnaturally, and the way his body turns toward Emmeryn is stiff and golem-like. "I would." He says in a cheerful tone. He's very still, and his voice lacks the unhinged quality it had just moments before. Even his body language totally changed, he's no longer animated and is instead very stiff in his movements.

Somehow this sudden calmness is even more disturbing than his near insanity.

The king limply raises a hand, like a puppet being moved around on strings, and points at the Shepherds. In a eerily flat voice he says "kill them" and the Risen start to move.

"Nowi!" Robin cries desperately. They need to at least _try_ to get Emmeryn.

"Salaaaa!" The dragon girl roars. Her wings flap as she takes to the sky once more. Instantly the Risen archers focus on her.

"Rage Powder!" Kellam shouts, surprising everyone as they forgot he was here. His Amoonguss furiously spews spores into the air, thankfully dragging the attention of most of the archers. A few manage to get shots off at Nowi, and girl is clearly hurt by them, but she still manages to rise up to Emmeryn as the ranged Shepherds start focusing on taking out the archers.

" _How is this actually working?_ " Robin thinks to herself as she frantically takes stock of the battlefield. Those archers should have ended them. Gangrel's strangely out-of-character actions might have actually saved them because he gave such generic orders that Robin can exploit standard Risen tactics. "We need a path!"

"Understood." Cordelia barks. "Staraptor, Whirlwind!"

A ferocious wind slams into the Risen near the fort's gate, and the soldiers are blown out of the way to create an opening.

"Everyone out!" Chrom barks.

"Virion, mages, go with a mounted unit! Provide cover fire for the rest of us once you're out of range!" Robin orders as she makes a mad dash for the opening. The Shepherds are in a full blown-retreat, but the Risen run after them as best they can forcing a fighting retreat. Their spirits are bolstered by the sight of Nowi flying overtop of them with Emmeryn safely on her back.

###

"What…" Gangrel mutters as he wakes up sitting in a moving carriage. "Erg…"

"Ah, good, you're awake my King." Aversa says with a smile. She's sitting on the opposite bench with two Pokemon beside her. One is her Mismagius, the other is a Hypno. "How do you feel?"

"Like I got hit with a brick." The man growls. "What happened? Is Emmeryn-?"

"Alive unfortunately." The woman huffs. "That blasted Dragon child didn't die to getting hit with arrows."

"Where did they even get that brat?" Gangrel snarls. "Bah…"

"Anyway my lord, what do you remember? You got hit with an attack as you were fleeing." Aversa asks.

"I was _winning_." Gangrel recalls. "I had the Ylissians at my mercy… and then Emmeryn, she said something."

"What?"

"I would condemn innocents for the wrongs of the nobles." The king grimaces. "Blast it, she's _right_. Plegia was no different before _I_ took power…"

"So what will you do my liege?"

"I…" Gangrel doesn't know what to think. He can't call of an entire war just like that, can he? But the entire reason he wanted this war was for the sake of revenge against those who wronged him, and that's not _all_ of Ylisse anymore. "How do I stop a war that I started."

"I see…" Aversa is now frowning. "My liege."

"What?"

"That's the wrong answer." The lady says coldly. "Mismagius, Imprison."

A purple field of energy suddenly springs to life around the king. He stands quickly, but he can't push out of the field. "What's this treachery?" He snaps.

"Not treachery my liege, I just need to _remind_ you of _our_ goal." Aversa says with a simpering smile as Hypno steps forwards. "Hypno here will help you _remember_."

The pendulum Hypno is holding starts to swing back and forth, and suddenly Gangrel knows what's happening.

"You… you've been _controlling_ me."

"For years my lord." Aversa smirks. "Now, let's go about _reminding_ you why Ylisse needs to burn…"

* * *

 **We're ending here. Hope you like it!**

* * *

 **SquidbaggerOfWoomyAndNgyesness** **:** Erm… I think it was some of the Blasted Ylisse chapters from Armageddon. He was fun to use mostly because he countered the quirky characters by being much more level-headed.

 **Yeet** **:** I've been doing non-Pokemon chapters after every two Pokemon chapters, so that's not fair to say at all. Otherwise, Pokemon will be ending soon and Second Generation Replacement will be the ongoing story.

Also yes, I totally agree, but in-universe she's super beautiful so I thought it was fitting to give Robin that reaction.

 **Maekanotherone** **:** Sorry, I've actually had everyone's Pokemon planned out for _months_ before I even wrote the first chapter, so I'm not really taking opinions from other people on the matter. That is good reasoning though, I didn't think of that. Also yes, Grima is Giratina.

 **Walrus** **:** I'll note all of those down. All of those are fine ideas.

I don't show possible chapters for Varied Awakenings simply because it's a lot of work. That's really it, I'm just lazy. I have them all noted down in a document though.


	17. Giantess Noire

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **The original intent for this chapter was to do the "Women of Plegia are giant" idea from Invisible Prince, but it sorta just ended up being Giantess Noire so… uh… I hope you like it?**

 **For size reference, the height difference between a human and a giant is like the difference between you and a doll that's about three or four inches short of your knees when standing (and you're the giant in this case). I decided to go for a more extreme height difference than what I did for Giantess Robin.**

 **I am disappointed at the lack of BradyXNoire fics out there. I know you wouldn't realize it from the stories I've written so far, but I** _ **love**_ **these two. They're my favourite pairing actually.**

 **This is a long chapter where very little happens for the first few thousand words. I got caught up in my habit of going through every little action. It's not a tendency of mine you guys would necessarily be familiar with, it shows more in my writing of** _ **Five Stars**_ **. So, uh… whatever. I enjoyed this chapter, so I'll put it out. Also, this is a rotating perspective chapter, I found it worked a lot better here.**

* * *

BRADY

I'm glad Noire fell from the sky _before_ me, because if I went first she woulda crushed me upon landing.

At least for her the fall is relatively short. The portal is fifty feet in the air, she's thirty feet tall, and she landed on her feet before toppling backwards so it's not too bad for her. Me on the other hand… well I'm just human, so a fifty foot drop is kinda scary.

And by 'kinda scary' I mean I shriek like a weakling the whole way down.

"Brady!" She yelps as she sticks out her hands to make a cushion. I land hard in the palms of her hands, but it's still softer than hitting dirt.

The sudden stop brings an end to my yelping. I shakily try to stand, breathing hard with panic, but it's stopped by Noire's fingers closing around my body and her rolling up onto her knees while raising my close to her face so she can better see me.

"Are you alright?"

"B-Bit bruised, kinda freakin' out, but otherwise good." I say as I tightly grip her massive fingers. "Where are we? Did the portal do it?"

Noire stands to full height, though she still keeps a careful grip on me rather than letting me stand on my own. That's probably for the best, my legs are pudding at the moment. "I can just see trees and fields…"

I squirm around in her grip until I'm looking away from her so I can actually see our surroundings. She's right. We're in a pretty flat field right now, but there's a forest just to my left. No civilization in sight, but with how fast Noire can move _hopefully_ that won't be a problem.

"Well at least we know we're probably in Ylisse." I grunt. "I recognize the trees." Ferox has the needle ones, Valm has the thick hardwood ones, an' Plegia would be swamps or the Fey Jungle. Ylisse has the oaks and birches and stuff. The normal ones.

"H-How far back do you think we got sent?" Noire whispers.

"Dunno." I grunt. "Considerin' the height of her portal was off, there's no saying how close in time she was to where we need to be."

"I guess we'll just have to ask someone when we find them." Noire whispers. "We need to find civilization."

"Yep." I glance at the sky and grimace. "Crap, we only got a few hours. We better get movin'."

"Right…" Noire frowns. "Let's go south. That way we know we won't _leave_ Ylisse."

"Good plan… but, uh, can you put me down first?"

I can't see her face (because she's still got a tight grip on me and turning around is hard) but I can hear the nervousness in her voice. "W-Well I was thinking it would be faster if I carried you. There's only two of us, s-so it's not like I have to carry _everyone_."

"Alright..." I say reluctantly. I know she's just trying to speed us up, but it feels like another reminder that I'm the weak one in our group. It's not the first time I've been carried around, though usually that's because I got injured. "Can ya at least lighten up the grip?"

"O-Oh, sorry." She whispers, and loosens her grasp. "I was worried you were going to fall, you looked shaken."

Well I'm fine now." I grumble.

Noire moves at a marching pace; something we're plenty used to from years on the run. I try to stay standing the whole time as we move and watch the expanse of trees and plains roll by, but standing still for a long time makes your legs stiff. I fidget uncomfortable for several minutes as I try to remain at attention and not slump against her fingers, but it's a losing battle.

"You can rest Brady." Noire murmurs, apparently noticing my squirming. I suppose it would be hard not to.

"I'll be fine." I grunt. "I can take a bit o' discomfort. Yer already walkin' for me and carrying me. It's rude o' me to be lyin' around when you do the work."

"Brady, there's nothing you _can_ do." She whispers. "Just rest. I'll tell you if I see anything."

That does sound nice. Lucy always told us to rest when we can, but we're not in our world anymore which means… I really have no excuse.

"Fine." I grumble. "But I don't want ya to be uncomfortable. Must be a pain to hold your hands up in a platform like this."

"Well…" I can tell from her voice that I'm right. "I have an idea, here."

She changes her posture so that I'm tucked In the crook of her arm. My head is resting on her forearm and my legs are tangled with her fingers. This is _not_ what I had in mind, I was more thinking I could sit on her shoulder.

"Comfy?"

"Uh… yeah." I can't deny that it's way more comfortable to be lying down. That said, I've very conscious of the side of my head pressing into her chest and how I'm basically being cradled like an infant. I don't want to refuse for such a petty reason though. "Thanks Noire."

"Of course."

NOIRE

Wow… the world really was different, wasn't it? It's kinda like I remember from when I was young. The sky is blue rather than faded purple, I can see bird flying above treetops, and the grass is lush and plentiful rather than patchy and half dead in greying dirt.

The sun is also out. It's _warm_ for once, the winds bring a pleasant coolness rather than piercing cold. I can smell grass and pollen, which is a nice change from rot and decay.

Only looking at the world now do I realize just how much of an influence Grima's return had on it. Grima didn't just kill _people_ , he was killing nature itself, his magic was sapping the life of the planet away.

I just wish we weren't in such precarious position right now so I could enjoy it more. The world may be more healthy, but me and Brady are still low on food, we're still exhausted, and there's no water in sight. If we don't find a village or a town soon, we're gonna have to consider hunting and setting up camp.

One big problem (pun not intended) is that I need a _lot_ of food. I'd need the equivalent of two cows to myself for a basic survival meal. There's enough food in my backpack for dinner, but that's it. We can't stay in the wild for long on our own especially since neither me nor Brady are great at hunting. That's more Yarne, Severa's, and Nah's thing, I'm too sluggish and Brady's too weak.

No, no, I should be positive now. We're back in the past, and that means so many things the we didn't have on the run we can have again. Like a comfy place to sleep, not having to constantly fear for our lives, like having time to take _baths_ or just relax.

Well, the 'comfy place to sleep' thing won't apply for me. Mom told me Ylisse has never been particularly friendly for giants, or really _any_ species outside of humans. There won't be beds for giants, and people won't be happy to see me.

" _Well at least Brady will be comfortable._ " I think, and glance at the boy I'm holding in my right arm. He's been really quiet since I made him lie down… ah, he's asleep. I was hoping for that if I'll be honest. We never got enough sleep because we were always on the run but I know Brady would feel bad about sleeping while I carry him around, so I had to make a situation where he'd fall asleep by accident (like, you know, lying down somewhere snug and comfortable, which is exactly what I provided).

It feels nice to be able to do something for him for once. I'm always getting injuries when we fight because I'm a massive target so he's always having to heal me up, and he's the only one who generally isn't worried about being close to me all the time. I think the others are sorta worried that I'm going to accidentally hit them or something.

Brady also sets up his tent _directly_ next to wherever I'm going to sleep for the night just so I'm not lonely. The others don't do that (unless I specifically ask them too) because they're worried about me rolling over on them in my sleep.

I _have_ rolled over on Brady's tent in my sleep before actually. He woke me up because he was laughing too hard while trying to squirm out from under my head. Then I started laughing too, we accidentally woke everyone up, and Lucy scolded us for it.

It took a while to get a new tent for him. He still insisted on sleeping next to me after that, and I appreciate- Oh! Oh!

"Brady, there's a village!"

"Eh- what?" The boy squirms awake. "Noire? What's wrong?"

"There's a farming village ahead!" I point with the arm I'm not using to hold him. "I can see wheat!"

"Bout time." He grunts. "Finally, we can find out where we are."

###

As I worried, I get some _very_ suspicious looks as we walk down the main path. It's hard to look inconspicuous when you're five times everyone's height, covered in dirt, and dressed in an outfit so tattered it looks like you were mauled by wolves.

Most of the farmers we see duck down and hide in their fields as we pass by, and I distinctly see some women herd their children back into their houses. The mere sight of a giant is enough to send them panicking.

"That's rude o' them." Brady growls as he watches another farmer hide. "We ain' done nothin'."

"It's fine." I mutter nervously. "They're just not used to giants."

"No reason to be rude." Brady grumbles.

It doesn't help that I take up the entire walking path, and if I pass by a person they're quick to avert their gaze and press as close to the fence of the nearby farm as possible in a bid to avoid me.

Judging by Brady's scowl, I think he's not that far away from yelling at someone. It's probably a good thing I'm holding him and he's not down there were he could be face-to-face with these people.

We finally arrive at the village center where the blacksmith, tavern, and general store are. I stay _out_ of the small dirt streets that comprise the village center, as one misstep from me could easily wreck a building.

"I won't be long." Brady grunts as I hand him the gold pouch kept in my backpack. I keep the group funds on me (people have their individual money too, but I just now realize that all the others are going to be missing the group money that we'd usually use for food or repairs). "I'll be back by sundown with something to eat, and a few other things."

"Alright." I murmur. "I'll be on the hill over there." I point to a nearby hill with a lone tree on top.

I walk my way up the hill and take a seat. From here I can actually see into the village, so I can watch Brady walking around and entering stores. He spends a few minutes in the tavern, a _long_ time in the leatherworker's shop, and an equally long time in the general store. It's only when he's marching up the hill do I notice he's carrying a _lot_ on his back. I get up and walk down to help him.

"Is this all leather?" I ask curiously as I pick up the sheets of hide.

"Yep." Brady grunts as I take the weight off his back. "Yer outfit's torn to hell, and there's no way we'll get anyone here to make a new one, so at least we can use these to patch your stuff up."

"O-Oh! I hadn't even considered that." I say with a surprised smile. "Thank you Brady."

"S'fine." He grunts as we walk up the hill and he shows me everything else he bought. "So I also got some thread and a needles for that, and for food I bought a _lot_ of potatoes. They'll stay good for about a month, though I think we'll run out of these long before then because… uh…"

"Because I'll probably eat all of them by breakfast tomorrow?" I say sheepishly.

"Yeah." Brady coughs. "But that's fine."

"Maybe we should keep those just for you, so you don't have to worry about food at all?" I suggest. That way at least I won't have to worry about being selfish and starving Brady.

"You know I won't agree to that." He scoffs.

"I can refuse to eat them." I say back.

"I'm not lettin' ya do that!" He scowls. "I'll damn well _force_ feed you if I have to!"

"You can't." I huff.

"Oh yeah? Why not!?"

"I'm stronger." I say bluntly. He immediately deflates, and I feel bad. I know he hates being reminded that he's weak (though compared to me _all_ our friends are weak, but that's aside from the point). "S-Sorry."

"It's fine, my fault." He grumbles and looks away. "Let's just have dinner."

Dinner for me is a fistful of various bitter-tasting plants I've got stuffed in my bag. Due to the necessity of feeding me, our group all became experts of knowing what plants one usually doesn't consider eating are edible. Things like cottontails, plantain plants, dandelions, chickweed, clovers, and various medicinal herbs are all edible, though most of them tend to be extremely bitter.

Whenever we found a patch of them everyone would stop and we'd spend half an hour picking every specimen we could find. Then we'd shove them in a bag, tie the top, and let it sit in a running stream to wash out all the dirt. Only then were they clean enough for me to eat.

To me it's like eating rice every meal. I can't taste the individual plants, they just all mingle together into a bitter-tasting but vitamin-rich fusion that leaves me feeling unsatisfied… but judging by how I haven't _died_ in our travels it's clearly enough for me to live on. Usually the others doesn't even eat all the little plants they spend hours harvesting. They're nutrient-rich so they're all given to me because I have the highest nutrient requirement due to my size… but it means all my meals taste _awful_.

"Oh, right, uh…" Brady pulls out something just as I'm raising my handful of plants. "Bring your hand here for a moment."

I watch as he dumps something into my hand. He then waves at me to eat, and I do so, and am surprised to find a significant spicy flavor in there. Spicy flavors aren't my favorite, but it's certainly better than another bitter meal.

"Was that spice?" I ask curiously.

"Yep. Half a bag. Got it from a merchant." He grunts and holds up the sack. "Bit costly, but I figure we deserve it after being on the run for so long, yeah? Little bit of a celebration for reachin' here alive."

The rest of the evening is unevental. Brady sets up his tent as the sun goes down, and I lie down with my head under the tree. We have a small argument where I try to convince him to go sleep in the inn, but he absolutely refuses to leave me alone despite the appeal of sleeping in a bed. I'm not surprised, somewhat annoyed that he's being stubborn... but also grateful. I hate being alone.

###

"Ah hell." Brady hisses. He shakes his hand and suck his finger for a moment. "Stupid needles…"

"D-Don't rush." I murmur.

"You want to be without a shirt for longer?" He scoffs as he get back to work.

"W-Well no…" I don't exactly _enjoy_ sitting here in just my chest bindings. We've moved to the edge of the forest so that I'm covered by trees when I lie down, but lying in the dirt isn't fun either.

"Then I'm rushin'." Brady says firmly.

The problem with mending clothes for us is that we each only have one pair of clothes, and when it comes to my outfit there's so many nicks and scratches to sew up that it takes a _long_ time, and that's not to mention the _main_ problem.

"Okay, uh, this is gonna be a hassle." Brady mumbles when he gets to the large hole in the chest area of my outfit. I got that a year ago when a mage blasted me and my clothes caught on fire, and we never had the material to fix it all which left a large chest window (which was _super_ embarrassing! I've gotten used to it since then, but I'd still appreciate having it fixed). "That's gonna take a while to fix. I'm gonna have to sew together some of these hides into a sheet, and then attach those to the hole."

"How long?" I whisper.

"Few hours to sew together all the hides, then probably half an hour to attach it to your outfit." I mutter as I make some rough calculations. "I'm gonna need a _lot_ more thread… I'll do it last. I'll fix up what I can now so you can put this back on, then I'll sew together the hides, then you'll have to take it back off so I can fix the big hole."

"Okay…"

I watch for a few seconds, but quickly realize there's not much I can do. He needs to focus, and talking just makes it more likely he'll stab himself with the needle. I need something to do…

Ah, wait! There's a stream nearby, and I haven't had a bath in _months_ (mostly because we never had the time to spare, not because there weren't rivers or something). This is a perfect time.

"Brady."

"Mm?" He says without looking away from his work.

"I'm going to bathe in the stream. I'll be back in half an hour."

"Kay. Holler if there's trouble." He grunts. "I'll come runnin'. I should have all the small holes patched up if nothin' happens by the time yer done."

It's so useful to have someone who knows how to sew. There's no way I could hold a needle. "Thanks again Brady."

"Yeah yeah, get goin'." He waves me off. "Leave me to my suffering."

"You don't have to-" I say in a slight panic.

"I'm kiddin' Noire."

"Oh, r-right." I laugh nervously, and slink away as best I can with my large form. "I'm going then…"

There's a stream that goes right through the village center, and into this forest. I still need to keep low to stay out of sight, and the stream is really shallow on me so I have to scoop water with my hands as best I can, but it's better than not bathing at all.

This is one of the reasons I keep my hair cut short. It's a pain to wash already, but if it was long it would take _forever_. I do with Severa was here to help though, it's not like I can _see_ my hair.

If I were human this would be the equivalent of washing myself in a puddle. When you're a giant you just sorta get used to these things. Unless there's a lake or an ocean nearby this is the best you get.

A noise pulls me out of my reverie. The sound of someone moaning "Raaagh…" from the forest. I lower my head down so it's flat on the ground, and I blink is shock when I see a lone Risen lumbering through the forest in my direction with axe in hand.

My breathing immediately starts to pick up. We're in the past! How are there Risen here?! How far along is the timeline!? My next thought is something much more immediate " _Brady! I need to get back to him, he's undefended!_ "

Due to my size (and therefore the slowness of my movements) I only have a few _practical_ options for fighting. I was always interested in archery, but making arrows that large is just not feasible. So instead I have two weapons: a stone mace about the size of a tree, and the dark magic I learned from mother.

I don't need a book to make combat magic, because even my cantrips (minor pieces of magic that _any_ magic user can manifest without much issue) are so powerful compared to regular humans that using a book to magnify my power is unnecessary (unless I want to fight other giants with magic that is).

I stretch out my hand and blast the Risen with a burst of dark magic. It explodes into black dust, and I scramble out of the river and pull on my clothes as quickly as possible. I don't bother with trying not to be seen anymore and break into a run through the forest as I hastily reapply my bindings.

BRADY

Noire comes charging through the trees in a panic. I barely have time to pull the needle out of my current patch job and grab my staff before I'm scooped up off the ground.

"What? What is it?" I ask as I try to regain my balance. "Bandits?"

"Risen!" She says in a panic.

"Risen!?" I shout in disbelief. "Well shit, how many?"

"I-I only saw one, but-"

"-they never travel alone." I finish her sentence. "That's bad. Uh… we gotta warn the village!"

"Right!" Noire stoops down, grabs her mace with her other hand, and dashes to the village. Even as she's doing this I can see other Risen starting to emerge from the forest around us and around the village center. Noire moves me so I'm sitting in the dip of her collarbone so she can cast spells with that hand. "Everyone!" She shouts. Her voice carries far, and I resist the urge to cover my ears from the sheer volume. "Watch out! Raiders!"

We don't know if people here actually know what Risen are, so calling them 'raiders' is a good call on Noire's part.

A few people peek out of their shops when they hear Noire hollering, and glance around at the surrounding hills to see the Risen lumbering down at them… and then rather than grabbing weapons, they shut their doors and hide.

"Guess we're on our own." I grimace. "You've got yer work cut out for ya Noire."

"R-Right." She looks quite panicked. "Oh gods, how many are there…?"

"Just stay calm, yeh? I'm here to heal ya, and these don't look like elites." I soothe as I try to hide my own panic. "Just start smashin' an' shootin'. You got this."

"Okay, okay…" She takes a deep breath. "Alright."

I hold on tight to her neck as she breaks out into a sprint towards the nearest Risen. Her maces comes across in a hard backhand swing, and it tears a chunk out of the ground as she sends a Risen flying. Her other hand comes up and shoots a blast of dark magic at the next foe which easily blasts a hole in the chest of the monster.

"Two to yer left!" I shout. "Archer there, watch out!"

Another strike with the mace. This time a tree is uprooted when Noire smashes the archer into it. The Risen beside it, a soldier, manages to stick it's lance into Noire's arm when she does so, and she smashes it with the pommel of her weapon before pulling back.

"Arm here." I grunt as I raise my staff. The wound is small, but we don't want that getting dirty. As long as we have a moment there's no reason _not_ to heal it.

As I'm healing her, another arrow flies by me to hit Noire in the cheek. I have to kneel down and grab on tight as the girl springs into action again and shoots the archer with a large blast of magic. From then on I don't really have an opportunity to heal her as Risen start to pour in from every direction. Thankfully most of them aren't that problematic, some of them don't even have weapons, but there's a _lot_ of them.

Slowly Noire is being worn down. A few arrows here, a few cuts there, and I can't easily heal her without risking falling off her shoulders. It doesn't help that she's mostly unarmored right now thanks to not having her shirt. Thank Naga these arrows are more like bee stings to her than the fatal attacks they would be to any human.

"Any more?" She pants after wiping out another small group. She sustained another cut on her legs from a spearman, but the leather pants she has on _mostly_ protected her. I'm gonna have to sew that up later…

"I ain't seeing any." I sigh. "But that's just here, we need to check the farms."

"Right." Noire grunts as she starts moving. "Ooh, that smarts... they got me in the shin."

"Just a little more Noire, then I'll heal ya up." I say nervously. I want to heal her _now_ , but I know her injuries aren't that bad and we have to check on the other villagers. I don't like having to put other people in front of Noire, especially when those other people were rude before, but that's what Lucy would want us to do.

She quickly scours the farms, and we find only a few Risen there. Some of the Risen are actually in the process of being killed by the farmers when Noire runs by. It seems that these farmers are a bit more inclined to defend themselves than those in the village center.

It takes an hour for us to search all the farms. By the time noon comes around Noire is exhausted, and she collapses as soon as we get back to the tree on the hill. I'm surprised to find all our stuff totally undisturbed. I guess no Risen ran right through our small camp.

First though, Noire needs to be healed up. Her job's done, and now mine begins. I spend the greater part of an hour pulling arrows out of her and healing up all her little scrapes and cuts.

"M-Maybe it's a good thing I didn't have my shirt on, or it would just have new cuts to sew up after you spent all that work fixing it." Noire jokes as I tug an arrow out of her stomach. She winces slightly but doesn't comment on it.

"Hey, it's easier to get thread and a needle than it is a new heal staff." I grunt as I heal up the arrow wound. "Alright, next wound."

She lifts me up to her chest. She's got an arrow directly dead center just above her bindings. I grip the shaft with one hand, plant the other against her, and yank it out as usual. She hisses audibly this time, probably because the skin here is more sensitive, but I heal it up quickly.

If this was a normal wound there's no way I could just tear out the arrows so recklessly, there would be blood loss to worry about. It's only due to arrows being really minor injuries for Noire that I can afford to just tear them out like I'm doing now.

There's one exception here. The arrow in Noire's cheek I can't really afford to just rip out because it goes _through_ her cheek. If I tore that out I'd rip a hole in her cheek… and I'm not sure I'm strong enough to do that anyways.

"Right, gonna have to…" I frown as I look at the injury. "Lower me down for a moment. I need my dagger."

"A _dagger_?" Noire squeaks.

"Yeah, gonna have to cut the arrow shaft." I grunt. "Or just shove it all the way through, but that's _more_ painful."

I fish out my dagger from the backpack and Noire raises me back up to the injury. I put down my staff for a moment so I can get a proper grip on the arrow with my free hand.

"This might be uncomfortable." I warn, and start sawing through the arrow shaft with my dagger. Thankfully it only take about ten seconds, and soon I'm holding the back end of the shaft. "Alright. Now don't _speak_ until I say you can. I don't want ya accidentally stickin' yer gums or something with the arrowhead. I'm gonna have to push the front end through." I warn.

Noire nods very slightly, so I so push the other half of the shaft into her mouth and heal up the wound quickly. "Alright, face me an' open up. Gotta find out that arrow."

It's a very strange thing to be pokin' around her teeth. I'm basically playin' dentist. I find the arrow head hiding under her tongue and daintily pluck it out.

"Alright, yer good." I say as I toss it aside. "Any other wounds?"

"A few on my legs…"

"Well let's do those." I grunt.

I finish up healing the rest of her minor injuries as she slips on her shirt. "D-Did you get to patch up all the holes?"

"Yeah, those are fixed." I grunt. "Gonna have more holes to fix on your pants though now…"

"Thank you for fixing up my clothes Brady." She mumbles.

"Not done yet." I remind her. "Still gotta deal with that window, and that's only the shirt."

"S-Still. Thank you."

"Yeah yeah…" I mutter.

###

We leave town the next day just after breakfast. The plan is to get to Ylisstol as quickly as possible, and hope that one of our friends has already made contact with the Shepherds and can vouch for us (and hopefully get Noire a steady food supply, because it's gonna be _nasty_ trying to feed her out in the wild).

That plan sorta goes out the window when we spy two people on the horizon… more pointedly, those people are _Tharja_ and _Robin_ (and we can see them from here because they're both giants like Noire). In other words, we just found the Shepherds by pure, Naga-given luck.

"Oh gods, oh gods." Noire is panicking a bit. "It's mother! What is she doesn't know about us future kids yet? Wh-What if she's not _married_ yet? My ring won't mean anything! Do we stay away?!"

"Noire, there's no way we hav- well, _you_ haven't been seen." I remind her. "Not many other giants around here. We're gonna look suspicious if we try to avoid 'em. We got no choice _but_ to go say hi. Let's just go up, see if the others are there, and if not we'll drop some knowledge on them to prove that we're kids from the future."

"Wh-What knowledge?"

"Well you gotta know a family secret or two about magic, and Ma's told me about a few of her early screw ups in being a magistrate that the public don't know about." I say. "That should hopefully work."

"And if not?"

"Then they think we're nuts." I say bluntly. "At least until Boss comes along and proves we ain't lying with her brand."

"R-Right." Noire takes a deep breath, and releases it. "Okay, let's do this."

Like I said, they clearly see us coming from a long distance away. Robin curiously watches us as we approach, and eventually we can see the convey they're travelling with. I can spy Prince Chrom at the front thanks to his blue hair, as well as Princess Lissa and Ma right next to her. Pop I can't see, but he's probably too short and just hidden by one of the wagons.

"Noire!"

Oh, hey. "There's Boss! See? We're good Noire." I say with a sigh of relief upon seeing Boss, otherwise known as Lucina, running towards us across the grass. "Hey Boss!" I holler, and wave at her.

"Hello Brady!" She calls as her eyes find me in Noire's grasp. I guess she didn't see me before. "I'm glad to see you're both alright!"

We meet her halfway to the caravan, which has now stopped (probably to wait for us). I can see the prince and Robin making their way over to us. Noire kneels down and lets me off onto the grass.

"Where have you two been? How long have you been here?" Lucina asks breathlessly as she checks us up and down.

"We dropped outta the portal two days ago." I say. "From fifty feet up. Woulda broken bones if Noire didn't catch me."

"Wait, you two dropped out of the _same_ portal?" Lucina blinks.

"Yeah?"

"How strange. Naga warned us we would be scattered. I'm surprised you both stayed together." Lucina murmurs.

"Lucina!" Chrom shouts as he jogs up. Robin is just behind him, and give Noire a polite nod. "Are these friends of yours?"

"Yes!" Boss nods rapidly. "Brady is Lady Maribelle's son, and Noire is Lady Tharja's daughter."

The fact that Boss didn't say both parents tells me that maybe neither of our parents are actually _married_ yet. I glance up at Noire to make sure she gets the message, and she gives me a nervous nod to confirm her understanding.

"Can you two fight?" Robin asks curiously.

"Uh… I'm a healer." I say nervously as she scrutinizes me. From what I've heard of her (I never really talked with Robin in the future) she's a perfectly nice person, so maybe it's just the fact that she looms over me that's scaring me.

Hey, I think I just figured out why people are scared o' Noire. It really is freaky to have someone five times your size staring down at you, even if they aren't threatening you or anything. I'm not scared o' Noire cuz we've been friends for years (when we first became friends around seven years old she was only ten feet tall, which is big, but not _crazy_ big, and because she grew gradually I just sorta got used to it).

Noire's mom though, she was _terrifying_. I mean, that's partially because of the height thing, bu also just because she was really nasty. I really hope she's not as scary now as she was back in our time, though more for Noire's sake than for mine. I've healed some unexplained wounds on Noire before we ever went on the run with the others, and I have some _very_ unpleasant suspicions as to where she got them.

"I-I can do magic, and I have a mace." Noire mumbles in response to Robin's question.

"And I presume you don't usually have such _impractical_ clothing?" Robin asks as she eyes Noire's patchy and torn clothing. "It's not a good idea to have your chest exposed like that."

"Hey!" I bark at the tactician. "We've been on the run for _months_! We haven't exactly had time to stop an' go _shoppin_ ' until yesterday, an' they don't sell clothes that big in dingy farmin' villages!"

The white-haired lady blinks in surprise as she looks down at me, clearly not expecting my input in the matter. I maintain my glare as best I can while suppressing the slight shaking of my knees.

"My pardon." Robin says after a moment, and actually gives us a slight bow. "That was poorly phrased on my part. I merely wanted to make sure that such exposure for combat attire wasn't by choice."

"I-It's not." Noire murmurs, clearly embarrassed about having this conversation centering around her clothes. She covers the hole self-consciously. "They got burned in a battle…"

"I remember that." Boss adds. "It was a dark knight, right?"

"I-I think so." Noire glances at me. "Brady was going to patch it up, but we decided to leave the village we were at because the villagers thought we were responsible for the Risen so he didn't have time to finish…"

"Ah, that explains the patches." Boss give me an approving nod. "Good thinking."

"Expensive though." I grunt. "We mighta used up quite a bit o' the group funds boss."

"That's fine. The Shepherds have plenty more than what little we had." She hums. "So it is money well spent… or at least money spent with good intent. I suspect your work will quickly be invalidated within a day or two."

Yeah. Now that we're with the Shepherds things like food and clothing won't be a problem anymore. So I put in all that gods-damned work tryin' ta fix Noire's shirt for nothin'. Bah, whatever. It was always gonna be temporary anyways. The plan was to get her somethin' new as soon as we could anyhow.

"L-Lucina…" Noire says quietly. "Do Mom and Dad know about me yet?"

Oh, I guess she _didn't_ get the message earlier. I wonder what she assumed I was trying to silently tell her.

"No… they're not married either." Boss responds in a murmur. "Perhaps it would be best you only reveal _one_ of your parents, so as to not influence their relationship?"

"Mother then." Noire says apprehensively. "Because it's obvious."

We make our way back to the caravan. It's slower now that _humans_ are walking around. Noire and Robin barely move, and only take a step every dozen seconds or so when we're far enough away to warrant them moving. It's one of the things giants just have to get used to I suppose. At least long marches aren't nearly as hard on them as it is on the rest of us.

Then comes the inevitable introductions. Noire makes her way over to Tharja, while I go find Mom.

Hopefully this will go well…

* * *

 **This might seem like an odd place to end, but this is going to get really long if I continue. I'll probably do at least a second (and probably a third) chapter of this at some point. It'll branch out to touch on Tharja, Robin, and Plegia as a whole to finally complete the "Women of Plegia are Giant" idea this chapter was based upon.**

* * *

 **SquidbaggerOfWoomyAndNgyesness** **:** Yeah, I remember. I took a small sample to get the general idea of what he was like, I was going to modify him anyways.

I like having Emmeryn rescued, even if it sorta ruins the dramatic moment of her sacrifice. That's mostly just personal preference on my part (though it does have a few benefits pertaining to Chrom in that he can continue his usual characterization rather than being forced into the role of Exalt. Not that him being forced into the role of Exalt can't make for good character development, but I like the more bull-headed and dorky Chrom from the start of the game). Gangrel being controlled is a slight spin on what actually happens in game (which is that he had good intentions when he started being king, but got corrupted by warlust). I chose to make him controlled to make him even more sympathetic, and that's purely because I like Gangrel.

 **Bakururu** **:** Actually forgot about Malmar, but you're right in your assumptions on why I chose Hypno. I also considered Beheeyem, but I needed something Gangrel could potentially escape from.

 **Invisible Prince** **:** Well there are no other characters I _actively_ dislike, but there are several I'm indifferent to such as Cordelia, Vaike, Maribelle, Say'ri, Priam, Anna, Inigo, and Kjelle. However that's just _in_ - _game_. In writing them I tend to make small tweaks to make them more likeable (when they're _intended_ to be likeable. I've still written F!Morgan as a sadist when I intend it to be addressed). I won't go into all the details of that of course, but yeah.

Also yes, I am _very_ fond of Gangrel. He's so much fun.

 ** _LoveGlutton_ :** Well yeah, this is hardly the first time I've had Gangrel not actually be as bad as he seems. What can I say? I like Gangrel!


	18. Pokemon in Fire Emblem 10

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening or Pokemon, all rights to the owners.**

 **So ends Pokemon in Fire Emblem. This was a fun project, I still think a full series could be made out of it, but I won't be the person to do it. As I've said before, at the end of this chapter I'll give you all the ideas and tidbits that weren't included in these ten chapters. Some of them are things that would have been done in the future, some are ideas that I would have included from the start but knew would make this series even longer than it already was.**

* * *

The defections were welcome news to the Shepherds. It started apparently with a general named Mustafa, and then spread from him to the other generals. With his failure at the execution, it seems much faith was lost in the power of the crown, and Gangrel's tenuous political power has collapsed.

That means that the Shepherds now have a straight shot towards the royal palace, Gangrel himself, and ending the war, and they're damn well going to take it.

That's how the Shepherds find themselves here in the Plegian castle courtyard, staring down Gangrel and his elite guard. For all the people that have abandoned him (including Aversa it seems, the women is nowhere to be seen).

The king seems to have recovered from his bout of insanity in their last fight. He stands tall near the doorway with a levin sword in hand and Raichu by his side. His guards are actually somewhat worrisome, with a few Sages, Heroes, and plenty of mages. The pokemon are equally worrisome as there are many ghost types around which is a serious problem for Machamp and Zangoose.

There are a few oddities on the Shepherd's side as well. First is Olivia: a battle dancer gifted by Basilio for this fight, and her Aromatisse. The second is that the Shepherd's quartermaster, Emmet, is actually joining them on the battlefield. He doesn't usually fight due to his leg, but the need for fighters with high magic resistance as well as Pokemon good against ghost types (which his Bisharp certainly is) means that he's joining them in battle for the first time in a while.

For his part, Gangrel is well aware how grim the situation is looking for him. He may have some elite fighters, but even if he wins this battle the Ylissian or Feroxi army can still swoop in to defeat him.

" _And I was so close to winning…_ " Gangrel snarls to himself. " _How could everyone abandon me? We were still winning! I was doing what everyone wanted! I was getting revenge for the injustices Ylisse inflicted on us!_ "

He should have known better than to put his faith in something as fickle as the public. He should have known better than to trust that bitch, Aversa. Now he's going to die like a dog cast out of his own home, abandoned by his own pack.

"Raichu!" The electric mouse hops from foot to foot next to him, cheeks sparking with angry electricity as he anxiously anticipates the coming battle.

No, that's not quite true. Raichu is still here with him. This battle might be pointless, but he's _not_ dying alone.

"Hah!" Gangrel barks suddenly, surprising everyone around him. A grin spreads across his face. "This battle is a farce! It's _hopeless_! But we, the men and women of Plegia who have not forgotten Ylisse atrocities, will spend our dying breath taking down as many of you insects as possible! For Plegia! For justice!"

To Chrom's great surprise, all the soldiers around Gangrel, despite being told by their leader that they weren't going to win this battle, all raise their weapons up high and echo Gangrel's shout. "For Plegia! For justice!"

"I'll admit I didn't expect that." Robin whispers to the prince as she watches all this. "But it doesn't change anything. Their morale might be high, but they just admitted they know they're going to lose."

"Right." Chrom nods. "Let's do this."

The Shepherds form up, feeling tense. This is their final fight, and they're still riding high off rescuing Emmeryn, but seeing their foes rally into a death-seeker mentality because they're totally sure of how awful Ylisse was is somewhat disturbing.

"Vaike, you remember-"

"Yeah yeah, I heard. Stay close to the mages…" The man grumbles in annoyance. Machamp is particularly vulnerable to ghost types with no way to hurt them so Robin is sticking the Pokemon and his trainer in the back where he won't be at risk and protect the mages from melee fighters (which Machamp _can_ fight).

"Sumia, Nowi, Emmet, Gaius, you all know what to do?"

"Fry the mages!" Nowi laughs eagerly as she whips out her dragonstone.

Robin is sending Nowi and Sumia as the fliers because they aren't weak to thunder tomes. Ghost types don't often know ice moves though, so they should be fairly safe. Emmet and Gaius are going obviously because their pokemon (Bisharp and Weavile) should be well-suited to deal with the ghost types.

"Okay… okay…" Robin takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and shouts as loud as she can. "Everyone, advance! We fight for the safety of Ylisse!"

The battle quickly turns out to be a grueling affair. Gangrel's elite guard aren't pushovers by any means, and even the basic soldiers are far more competent than the usual army soldiers they've been fighting.

The Shepherds' cavalry has been doing their best to fight off flank attacks, but they're outnumbered by the Plegain troops. The mage-killing squad is finding surprising opposition in the form of two Mimikyu who have no weakness to Dark and are immune to Dragon. Only Bisharp's Iron Head is doing meaningful damage to them, but the two slippery ghost types are so far managing to avoid the Sword Blade Pokemon.

The central fighting is at least solidly going in the Shepherds' favor. They've almost punched through the Plegian line to get at Gangrel, and the king and his Raichu are already blasting away at them with lightning.

"Come at me! Kill me! _Try!_ " Gangrel spits with a manic grin. "Slaughter us just like your father did little prince! I survived one of his massacres, I can do the same against you!"

"Raiiiii!" The electric mouse beside his snarls. It's tail jabs at Chrom, and a Thunderbolt burts out at him.

Chrom braces with his sword, but the blow is blocked by Robin stepping in front of him and taking the hit. The electricity courses painfully through her body, but her resistance is much higher than Chrom's and she doesn't go down so easily.

"Keep on your toes Chrom." Robin grunts as she sends a fireball shooting at Raichu. "There's this thing called _dodging_."

"You can still joke at a time like this?" Chrom grunts as he waves over Lissa to heal Robin.

"Who's joking? I can't let your handsome face get ruined." Robin says with a dead serious expression. "What else am I going to admire in my free time?"

"Please focus Robin." The prince groans as he blocks an axe swing. He kicks the man in the chest, and Lucario executes him with a quick Flash Cannon.

Robin is about to say " _I am… on that nice ass_ " but another bolt of lighting flies by her head and she remembers that they're in a _battle_ , the flirting can wait until after.

She's going to remember that line though. That's a good one. She can totally use that later.

Chrom, Robin, and their small team clear a hole in the Plegian line, and the prince and Lucario charge through so he can properly take a stab at Gangrel.

"Finally!" Gangrel cackles. "You kept me waiting, Prince! Your father was much more faster than you!"

"Regardless, _I_ will be the one to defeat you!" Chrom snaps.

" _Defeat_? Hah! You mask what your true intent is with childish words! You mean _murder_ little Prince, not defeat! _Killing_ , not beating me in a _chess match_!" Gangrel sneers.

"Not so." The prince levels his sword. "There's something wrong with you Gangrel, and Emmeryn would know what. You are coming with us, _in chains_ , like the dog you are."

"The Mad _Dog_ of Plegia, hah!" Gangrel laughs hysterically. "The Prince has a sense of humor, how quaint! Too bad it won't make this easier! Raichu!"

"Raichu!" The pokemon leaps in the air. It's tail shines with a silver sheen as it is swung over the pokemon's head in a vertical slice. Lucario quickly intercepts the Iron Tail with its forearm, and jabs the Mouse Pokemon in the stomach with the other hand.

Raichu grimaces, but an evil-looking smirk crosses it's face as it jumps away. Chrom notices the problem immediately: Lucario looks like he's having trouble moving. That jab to push away Raichu, small as it was, was enough to trigger the Mouse Pokemon's Static ability and paralyze Lucario.

"See Prince? One move, and you're already losing!" Gangrel cackles. He steps forwards and lets his levin sword crackles with electricity. "You really think you can take down _both_ of us at the same time without killing us? Now _that's_ a joke!"

"It's a good thing we don't plan on fighting alone then." Chrom says. "There's an easy way to take you down without even injuring you."

"Oh really?" Gangrel sneers. " _Please_ , enlighten me."

"I would be glad to." A new voice says. The figure is escorted in from above on the back of Swanna, belong to Philia. Emmeryn steps off, looking no less regal for the sand and bloodshed all round. The Exalt calm opens her pokeball, allowing Blissey out. "Hello again Gangrel."

"Exalt." The king sneers. "So eager to be captured again, are we?"

"I'm afraid you have it wrong way around." Emmeryn murmurs as she raises an unfamiliar staff. "Goodnight Gangrel."

The staff flashes with light, a green glow envelops the king, and he falls face-first down in the sand a second later.

There's a moment of silence as they stare at Gangrel, it can't be that easy can it? But a full twenty seconds pass without anything happening, and the royal siblings realize that the Sleep Staff did it's job and Gangrel is out like a light.

"Raichu?" The Mouse Pokemon cautiously pokes at it's master. "Rai? Raichu!" It's head snaps towards the Exalt, and an ugly snarl crosses the small creature's face. "RAI!"

Blissey is the one to block the sudden Thunderbolt that is shot Emmeryn's way. The Happiness Pokemon's incredible durability against special attacks shows through as it barely seems injured by the attack.

That's not the end of the fight though. Raichu charges the group, ignoring the four against one odds, and goes straight for Emmeryn. Lucario and Chrom's attempts to stop it actually _fail_ as the creature weaves around Lucario's Close Combat, and actually jumps up _on_ Chrom's head when he strikes at the pokemon, and uses it to leap in turn at his sister.

Iron Tail is used again, and Emmeryn has to quickly backpedal to avoid having her throat slashed. The next dozen seconds are a mad scramble to stop Raichu as the Mouse Pokemon dodges and weaves through them with Agility, trying to get at the Exalt.

Philia steps in, trying to use her spear to keep Raichu at a distance, but the small pokemon effortlessly cleaves the spear in half with another Iron Tail and actually smashes it's head into Philia's helmet, not in an actual Pokemon _move_ just a brute-force smash, causing the lady to stumble backwards while Raichu bleeds from the forehead from such a reckless move.

"RAICHU!" The Pokemon snarls as a few slices from Chrom force it jump away. "RAI!"

"Gods this is ridiculous." Chrom grimaces. He glances at where Gangrel is lying on the floor. The Sleep Staff is only going to last so long. He didn't expect _Raichu_ to be the main problem of this plan.

Emmeryn finally has a moment to breath now that Raichu has be pushed away by Chrom, and she capitalizes on it by shouting. "Blissey, Attract!"

The Happiness Pokemon obliges, and shoots a giant pink heart at Raichu. Being distracted by Chrom waving his sword, the Mouse Pokemon doesn't notice the attack until it's too late and Attract bursts in its face. Raichu shakes its head violently, but it's clear the move took hold by the way it's gaze seems drawn uncontrollably towards Blissey.

"Careful." Emmeryn murmurs quietly to her brother. "It's not a perfect solution. Move slowly, don't approach Raichu, and make sure he doesn't see you getting Gangrel." She turns to Blissey. "Please keep Raichu under control."

"Bliss!" The pokemon chirps. It slowly moves over to the Mouse Pokemon, who shrinks away slightly, and snuggles against him, causing the pokemon to _very tentatively_ relax (which is a testament to the power of Attract that Raichu can relax in the presence of people that it thought were trying to kill it a moment ago).

Chrom skirts around behind the two Pokemon, and jogs over to Gangrel. He quickly ties the man's hands and pockets his levin sword. He debates snagging the man's pokeball, but decides to leave it. Taking someone else's pokeball is _technically_ allowed in a war context, but even then it's heavily frowned upon by all nations. Someone's Pokemon is their _partner_ , and taking away their pokeball is taking _possession_ of that Pokemon. It's basically kidnapping.

With that in mind Chrom reluctantly allows Gangrel to keep the pokeball. However the man is still captured, and that means the war is over. "Philia!"

"Yes my Prince?"

"Spread the word that the war is over. Tell the Shepherds to stand down." He orders.

"Of course." The lady mounts up her Swanna and takes to the air.

Chrom breathes deeply in and out, and a smile crosses his face. The war is over, they've _won_.

###

"It's not fair Chrom!" Robin says as she takes another sip of wine. "Stolen away before I was even given a chance!"

"I wouldn't exactly count that as being _stolen_." Chrom smirks. "Cordelia said she had a date that day, not that she wouldn't go on one with you some other time."

"Yeah, but I'm not going to ruin Stahl's chances. I want him to be happy too, and he's good for her." The tactician huffs. She slumps in her chair, and dramatically throws an arm over her head in a mock swoon. "Woe is me! Such a joyous time and I have no one to share with!"

"Ouch. I'm right here." Chrom chuckles.

"Sitting down for half an hour to share wine is not what I mean." Robin sighs. "I _do_ appreciate your company Chrom, but it's the war's end! Romance is in the air! And here I am, bemoaning my lack of a love life to my superior."

"So I'm your superior now?" The price says with a raised eyebrow.

"You always have been."

"Robin, you _regularly_ tease and flirt with me, and show no respect for decorum or protocol." Chrom reminds her. "That's not how you treat a superior."

"Not my fault you're hot stuff." Robin teases. "What's your excuse for being alone right now? Why aren't you spending the day with some foxy blonde or a cute brunette? Too much work to do? Frederick doesn't approve? _Lucario_ doesn't approve?"

"Are those the _only_ reasons you can think of that I wouldn't be spending the day on a date?" Chrom smirks. "Maybe I'm just tired and I don't want the hassle. Maybe I'm aromantic."

"Are you?"

"No. But you didn't know that; and for the record, Emmeryn explicitly gave me today off, and I also gave Frederick the day off with strict orders to _not_ follow me around. Same for Lucario." The prince says with a grin.

"And you're wasting a free day here?!" Robin says, faking shock. "I'm both flattered and disappointed!"

Chrom rolls his eyes. "You think I should be out getting laid, don't you?"

"Of course! What better way is there to spend free time?"

"Being here with you, drinking wine, maybe playing a game?" Chrom says with a raised eyebrow. "What about you? Why are you here instead of hitting on someone else?"

"Because I'm _inconsolable_!" Robin says. "Also you happen to be a close friend, and you're hot."

"It always comes back to me being hot, huh?"

"Well…" Robin pauses. "Not really. That is a nice upside, but I hope you realize I'm joking whenever I say that's the reason I like to hang around you. You're a nice person and fun to talk to. Being hot is just icing on the cake."

"Well that's reassuring to hear. I was worried I was in the company of a female Virion." Chrom chuckles.

"Virion sticks to all that formal love stuff with compliments on the voice and the hair and whatnot." Robin scoffs. "I _routinely_ compliment people just on having a nice body and nothing else. I'm far worse than a female Virion, and much less successful."

"Well that's true." Chrom admits. "But you're no worse company for it. You're very honest with your feelings, and you're much nicer than your supposed shallowness led me to believe at first." Then, to give her a cheeky taste of her own medicine, he adds. "It also helps that you're sexy."

"Now you're making fun of me." Robin pouts.

"Kinda." Chrom admits. "Though I'm also being honest."

"Oh really?"

"Really."

"Raise your standards then." Robin huffs, and leans across the table to poke him in the chest. "Come on. A girl in a baggy cloak? You call _that_ sexy? Pff… Now Maribelle, or _Tharja_ , they're hot stuff. Heck, so is Olivia, and if you're into dudes Lon'qu is just _perfect_ , or Vaike if he wasn't an ass, or Frederick is he wasn't… Frederick."

"That's mean."

"True though! So either way, raise your standards! You're a _prince_ , you don't have to lower yourself to me Chrom!"

"Lower myself?" Chrom snorts. "When have I _ever_ shown that I cared about rank or social Robin?"

"Well never… but still, others have better bodies than me Chrom!"

"Are you really fixated on that?" The prince asks with a raised eyebrow. "I also said you're kind, and I like your honesty."

"Aha! So it _was_ a joke when you called me hot!"

"No it _wasn't_." Chrom rolls his eyes. "Robin, how much wine have you had to drink?"

"I'm _not_ drunk." Robin huffs. "I've had just this glass Chrom."

"Well then just accept I find you attractive." Chrom says. "Because despite what you think I _do_ have standards, and you easily surpass them."

Robin squints suspiciously at him. "Okay, I'll bite, why are you buttering me up?"

"Buttering you up? I'm _complimenting_ you Robin." Chrom laughs. "But if you insist I'm going for something, I'll happily monopolize your time for the rest of the day. It would seem we're both in need of a companion."

"Well..."

"Robin, let me be clear." The prince leans forwards, hiding his own nervousness with what he hopes is a dashing grin. "You said to me not that long ago that royals are way out of your league, right?"

"Right."

"I frankly disagree, and in no small part because I always hoped to gather the time and the _courage_ to approach you." Chrom says.

"The _courage_? You make me sound intimidating."

"You are! You give off the air of being very experienced in matters of romance, so I was always worried I'd make a fool of myself for any sort of approach." He allows a self-deprecating smile to cross his face. "My own experience is precisely zero after all."

"This is a terrible way of asking for a date Chrom." Robin informs him.

"Uh…"

"I accept, by the way. Just for future reference, save the self-deprecating humor for _after_ they accept."

"Alright."

"So." Robin sits up straight from the slouched position she's been in for the last five minutes. "You said a game, right? What do you want to get destroyed in today?"

"Let's just start with chess."

* * *

 **Okay… this is the end. Pokemon in Fire Emblem ends here, at least from me. However, as promised, I'll barf up all the ideas I didn't use now:**

 **First, here's a list of all the characters who didn't appear and the Pokemon that they were going to have:**

 **Anna: Persian**

 **Henry: Honchkrow (Was there any doubt?)**

 **Cherche: Charizard (Duh)**

 **Say'ri: Mienshao**

 **Tiki: Garchomp**

 **Basilio: Conkeldurr**

 **Flavia: Infernape**

 **Yen'fey: Mienshao (only doubled Pokemon in this entire list, it just seemed fitting for some reason)**

 **Priam: Swampert**

 **Walhart: Cobalion (only legendary partnered with a person)**

 **Mustafa: Rhyperior**

 **Excellus: Spiritomb**

 **Grima: Giratina**

 **Naga: … I actually don't know. I never took Naga into account. I suppose she** _ **should**_ **be Rayquaza, but then I have no idea what to do for the legendary Pokemon/Gem Tiki has.**

 **Second, I had this idea about the Fire Emblem, or more specifically the** _ **gems**_ **. The original plan, before I simplified the plot, was to have the gems be a special sort of pokeball that housed legendary Pokemon and are usually only used as an ace up the sleeve in truly dire situations. Ylisse was going to have Xerneas, Plegia was going to have Groudon, Ferox was going to have Kyurem, Valm was going to have Solgaleo, and Tiki (because she has one of the gems remember) was going to have Rayquaza.**

 **I was going to have Plegia's desert actually be the** _ **result**_ **of using Groudon to fight off the Ylissian army in the war Chrom's father started. In other words the desert was going to be** _ **recent**_ **, and it was going to be the driving reason for the raids and lack of food.**

 **Third, I originally had plans to have certain sections from the perspective of the Pokemon, but instead they ended up being secondary characters. Again, the Pokemon effectively** _ **double**_ **the cast size, so to do them justice would really require a full story.**

 **I only had full movesets for** _ **three**_ **Pokemon in this whole story (and none of them used their full movesets). Those three are Absol (Night Slash, Superpower, Will-O-Wisp, and Perish Song), Lucario (Close Combat, Aura Sphere, Flash Cannon, Extreme Speed), and Raichu (Thunderbolt, Iron Tail, Agility, Hyper Beam).**

 **Also, I totally just** _ **abandoned**_ **the children halfway through the story. I had intended to wrangle them in near the end of this arc and have them rush in to help at some point, but it never really seemed to fit. (Oh, and in case you're wondering, Brady got Igglybuff purely because I thought it was funny and cute and not because it matched him in any way.)**

 **That about covers the miscellaneous information I never implemented. Hope you all enjoyed this mini-series, and as always: anyone who wants to take this idea, modify it, or do** _ **whatever**_ **with it is perfectly welcome to.**

* * *

 **Invisible Prince** **:** Yeah. There's a bunch of pairing that need some love.

 **Half-beastdragonsoul2013** **:** That was _not_ my intent. I guess it was a bit unclear from Lucina running out to meet them, but she was just eager to see her friends.

 **Danny Devito** **:** I'll note that down.

Brady's is Ricken, Noire's is Libra. I'm just using my defaults for this story.


	19. Giantess Tharja

**Disclaimer** **:** **I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **Second Generation Replacement incoming in a few chapters, but I'm gonna do a few other things inbetween.**

 **More Giant stuff for now, yay. This is a bit more like a highlight-reel than the one focusing on Noire.**

* * *

THARJA

"Where is it? I know I have more." I grumble as I look for my extra blackleaf. I use my magic to levitate the small pouches up to my face so I can see inside them, and sigh in relief when I find what I'm looking for. I levitate some out.

Most giants learn some levitation magic just to be able to manipulate small objects. Unlocking small chests, picking up small bags, and all those sorts of things require far too much fine movement to be practical so magic levitation is the second best thing.

"Blackleaf, Rotberry, Smokeroot…" I mumble as I drop the ingredients in the pot. "Chamomile, Garlic, Echinacea…"

This is potion to cure severe wound infections. Rotberry, despite the name, is a key ingredient because it actually has potent antifungal and antibacterial properties. The name "Rotberry" comes from it's ugly look and smell and not because the berries are prone to rot, quite the opposite in fact.

"Now just stir and let it boil for an hour…" I murmur. There's nothing to do but wait. I can't leave a cauldron boiling on its own. I sit cross-legged on the grass, pull out my notebook, and levitate a quill to start writing.

"M-Mother…?"

Or apparently I won't, because I'm going to be interrupted. I lower the notebook and stare flatly at the girl standing in front of me. She is Noire, who is apparently my daughter from the future. I'm not sure how much I buy that story, but she seems absolutely convinced, knows a few of my secrets, and the two other children also attested to this fact.

So now I have a daughter, a daughter who is already a young adult, and I am not prepared whatsoever to be a parent.

"What is it girl?" I ask dryly.

"W-Well…" She stammers. "I-I was wondering if… maybe… you had a moment…?"

"Yes. Now _what is it_?" I repeat.

"Oh, uh, I-I wanted your help with something." She squeaks. "S-See, I was p-practicing a spell, a-and something's going wrong-"

"Show me." I say bluntly.

"N-Now?!"

"Yes."

"O-Okay." Noire stammers. She takes a few long strides _away_ from the camp. "I-It's an attack to knock things away from me." She explains when I raise an eyebrow at this. The girl takes a moment to focus, and then electricity suddenly sparks from her skin and dances across her entire body, followed by a loud thunderclap and a small shockwave.

Well, small for _us_. Relative to a human that's a fairly large shockwave. Actually… when I take a look at the camp, it seems as if they weren't totally unaffected by Noire's attack. A few things got knocked over, and there are several eyes in our direction now. I give them all a glare, and for the most part they look away.

"Oops." Noire says sheepishly. "Th-That's the problem. It's _too_ good. If I reduce the power though, it doesn't actually knock people away from me, but if I keep it at current strength it reaches too far and can easily hit my allies…"

"I see." I'm actually quite impressed with the spell as-is, I never thought to do something like that, but unintended side-effects are problematic. "A way to stop the effect beyond a certain point. Hmm…"

Spellcraft isn't my specialty. I specialize in hexes, potions, and curses. This is more suited to Miriel, or even Henry (although his own spellcraft is more along the lines of "how can I make this even more brutal?" and not about control), but I cannot look incompetent in front of my own child.

"Well, restraining the effect of a spell usually involves power reduction, so cutting off the effect at a certain point _without_ power reduction is very unusual." I say slowly. "Let's see... Can you conjure the spell circle?"

"Y-Yes." She does so. A spell circle is thankfully the same size as the caster, so I can see it in great detail. Pulling up a spell circle involves casting the spell but holding it just at the point of release, which is rather energy consuming, so I quickly sketch out the circle while Noire holds it.

"Alright, you can release it."

She does so (and accidentally knocks a few things over again). "W-Well?"

"Give me a moment." I mutter as I make a few notes. "Hmm… how to do this without a second spell…"

I sketch out a few modifications as Noire waits nervously. "I-Is it too hard?"

"No." I say curtly. "I said give me a moment."

I try my best, pulling on the most complicated spellcraft techniques I know, but this really is over my head. This is speculation more suited to someone with a better knowledge of magical theory. Restraining the scope of a spell in a way that doesn't rely on magical artifacts to contain it or binding the spell to an object is very new.

I tear out the pages of my scribblings. "Try some of these." I say, and hand the pages to her. " _Away_ from the camp preferably."

"R-Right. Thank you Mother." She stammers gratefully, and moves further off to attempt the changes I made.

For the rest of the hour my potion takes to finish I watch my daughter in the distance. She casts each modification three times, just to make sure she's casting it right. The first modification negates the shockwave entirely, the second sends the shockwave inwards and knocks her off her feet, the third causes the shockwave to aim downwards and causes a miniature earthquake, and the fourth turns the shockwave into a blast of wind that reaches all the way over to the camp and whips my hair into my face.

Well, it seems none of my modifications were the solution. How unfortunate. At least my potion is done…

###

"Noire." I say, not looking away from the ritual I'm attempting.

"Y-Yes Mother?"

"Hand me the chalk."

The girl quietly panics as she peeks into each bag set down around us. She carefully pries open each bag so she can see inside, and when she eventually finds the chalk she carefully shakes some out and hands it to me.

I raise an eyebrow as I take the chalk. "Noire."

"Y-Yes Mother?"

"Why aren't you using levitation?"

"P-Pardon?"

"Levitation." I repeat more slowly. "Why aren't you using it?"

"I… don't know how." She squeaks.

"Why?" I ask sharply. I'm can't afford to look away from the ritual now, or else I'd be glaring at the girl. "Did you not practice? I won't abide _laziness_ , girl."

"Th-That's not it!" She protests in a panic. "I-It just th-that, in the future, y-you never taught me how!"

"Really?" My eyes narrow in suspicion. "I never taught you a _basic_ skill of being a giant? How in Grima's name have you gotten by day to day?"

"My friends help a bit." She mumbles. "Okay, a _lot_ , and it was mostly Brady who helped me when I needed it. Everyone else was- _is_ \- a bit cautious about getting too close to me."

"Right." It would seem there are more issues to address than I thought. "Do you have chores today?"

"I-I've already done them."

"Good. We're spending the afternoon working on your levitation." I inform her curtly.

"O-Okay!" She squeaks.

She so timid. That needs to be fixed too. I can't let any daughter of _mine_ be a pushover.

The ritual takes only dozen more minutes. When it's done, I carefully pick up the axe I just enchanted and glance over the camp for the owner. I stop him, and within two steps I'm right next to the monk. "Here."

"Ah, Lady Tharja, my thanks." Libra says with a bow.

"Whatever. Just remember you owe me a favor." I say curtly as I return to my daughter. Libra might have responded, but by the time he could have I'm already too far away to hear him. "Now… _you_ …"

"Y-Yes?"

"Listen and watch closely. I don't want to repeat myself too many times."

"Th-this won't be dangerous, right?" Noire asks cautiously.

"What do you mean?"

"L-Last time you gave me magic advice, I got scolded by Robin." Noire mumbles.

"That's because you weren't careful." I scoff. Is she trying to blame this on _me_? Bah. "Now, listen closely…"

###

"Libra." I say curtly as I tower over him. He just exited his tent, probably after finishing morning prayers. I've been waiting here for a few minutes, much to the confusion of some people around me. "I have need of you."

He says something as he bows to me, but it's far too quiet considering how far up I am. I take it as him saying "sure" and pick him off the ground. Like most people who are picked up for the first time he clings tightly to my fingers for fear of falling.

Maybe I should have given him a warning… but honestly I don't care. I'm only taking a few steps with him anyways, I can anywhere in camp in less than ten seconds. He can deal with being man-handled for a moment.

I put him down near the giants' campsite. As you might imagine giants don't fit under tents, so to stay warm at night we have our own large campfire to curl around and large waterproof blankets (which aren't cheap I might add) in case of rain.

"Speak up." I order as I let him down. "I couldn't hear you."

"M-My apologies." Libra says. He's a bit unsteady as he steps off my hand. Maybe he got vertigo. "I said I am otherwise unoccupied at the moment."

"Good." I levitate out a few things from my bags. "I'm taking my favor."

"Of course. What do you need of me?"

"I just need you to stay still…" I mutter as I start preparing the hex. "This won't take long to cast, but I don't know how long the effects will last."

"What sort of effects?" Libra asks cautiously.

"Well this hex is untested, so side-effects like sickness, lightheadedness, itching, muscle spasms, mood swings, mana bloating, and so on are probable." I mutter. "Nothing severe, and nothing I can't cure."

Mana is strange. It's present in the body at large, as well as the mana pool. To cast a spell you use mana from your mana pool, but when you're healed that healing magic goes to your _body_ and pollutes it with mana. Too much of that is called "mana sickness" or "mana bloating" and can make a person violently ill or (in extreme cases) cause rampant and often fatal mutations as the excess mana runs wild. There are only a few known ways to drain mana from the body, some of which are the careful use of the Nosferatu spell or a Succubus' life drain.

"Right." He says, keeping a straight face. "I put my faith in your abilities. I trust you won't…"

"Kill you?" I finish.

"Yes." Libra coughs.

I let out a snort. "Of course I won't. This is _not_ an uncontrolled test. I don't know the exact side-effects, it's a new spell, but I have the means to counter anything that might occur."

"As you say. I trust you Miss Tharja."

"Feh, that's your folly." I mutter.

"I do not think it is." Libra hums back.

"I'm casting the hex." I say abruptly.

Hexes are actually just a subset of curse. They trade effect duration for being quick to cast and having instant effects, but have a threshold for how powerful they can get. There's no such thing as a lethal hex, but if you're creative enough you can get quite a bit out of one…

A few hand motions and some crushed herbs is all that's needed to cast the hex. Greenish smoke appears from the crushed plants, and when I point at Libra the smoke rushes at him and forcefully enters his mouth.

"I…" Libra's body immediately sags. "Oh my…"

"How do you feel?"

"Very… tired…" He mumbles. "Is this… expected?"

"Not to this extent, but I expected _some_ fatigue." I say as I watch him intently.

Libra stumbles, falling backwards. "Miss Tharja… what _is_... this hex?"

"My attempt at a revitalization hex." I say. "Hexes can't usually heal, they _force_ something upon the target, so I figured a way to make that work… I think."

"I… see…" His eyes struggle to stay open.

"I can explain when you wake up." I offer.

"I would… would…" Libras voice trails off as the hex forces him to sleep. I quickly catch his limp form with my hands, sit down, and place him in my lap.

"Well, that's not _quite_ what I was going for." I mutter as I stare down at his comparatively small form. The hex is meant to fix breathing issues like lung infections or pneumonia. The reason I'm using it on Libra is just to check for side-effects. I knew from testing the hex on animals that it was capable of inducing drowsiness, but on Libra the side-effects were more severe than expected... but as long as the hex _works_ I'm satisfied. The side-effects can be reduced or eliminated with a bit of experimentation.

In the meantime I have to keep an eye on Libra. If I put him to sleep, it's my job to make sure he's safe until he wakes up. I could use a spell to wake him, but that's a waste of spell components if he'll wake up naturally within a reasonable time. I'll wait… an hour or so, and if he's not awake by then I'll use a spell.

###

"Hmm…" I frown. This is the third time I've tried to hex my daughter, and it _still_ hasn't taken.

"Wh-What is it Mother?" Noire asks cautiously as she looks up from her levitation practice. She's sitting cross-legged on the floor, trying (and failing) to move around a small bag of rocks. For someone with as much magical power as her, Noire is surprisingly incompetent at anything outside combat magic. It's like my future self never taught her other types of magic.

Also, her magic resistance is absolutely absurd. Even Libra, who is no slouch in magic resistance, can't resist my hexes this effortlessly. Noire doesn't even seem to _notice_ that I'm hexing her, my hexes are _that_ weak compared to her resistance.

"Noire." I say slowly. "Are you resistant to magic?" I know she is, but I want to know what she thinks about it.

"Y-Yes."

"To what extent?"

"Uh… I can resist most lethal curses without issue, I-I've taken thorons with only minimal damage, I've never be successfully charmed…" She mumbles.

"Right." Okay, that's even more absurd than I expected. Death curses are all but impossible to resist. Henry and I have to counter-curse them when we're targeted (and Henry is particularly skilled at counter-cursing and counter-spelling in general), and I know that Libra's natural resistance wouldn't be able to counter one. So why can _Noire_ shrug them off so easily?

This requires more experimentation.

Now the question might come: _why_ am I trying to hex my daughter? At first I was trying to hex her to test out a mood-altering hex, one that should make you feel very confident for a limited amount of time, but the hex simply didn't take. Now I'm trying to hex her just to see how much it actually takes to get over her resistance.

No luck so far.

I set about casting another curse. A _proper_ curse, not just a hex. A curse that slowly causes asphyxiation (to give me plenty of time to dispel it if it actually takes effect, I don't want my daughter _killed_ ).

Curses take a bit longer to take effect than hexes, and take longer to cast as well. Thankfully Noire is occupied with her practice so she doesn't question my actions as I go through the slow process of casting the curse. I make it extra powerful by doubling the ingredients and my power input.

"Interissent aere ventus folia nihil obstant." I whisper as I come to the completion of the curse. I grab the air in front of me in Noire's direction, and pull my fist back harsly. There's a flicker of shadow around my fist as the curse completes casting, and I sit back and wait to see if it takes.

For a minute, nothing happens. The air loss would be so minor as to be almost unnoticeable anyways. After one minute though, I can tell the curse has worked. Noire's swallows repeatedly as if trying to clear something blocking her throat, and abandons her practice in favor of clutching at her throat.

I make a few quick gestures and jab a finger at Noire, and the curse abruptly ends. She gasps audibly for a few moment as I make a few notes in my notebook.

"That _is_ some impressive resistance." I mutter. "Hmm…"

"M-Mother, was that you?" Noire gasps.

"Yes. I was trying to find your resistance limit. It's incredibly high." I say without looking up.

"O-Oh."

"Now get back to practicing." I order.

"Y-Yes Mother."

###

"Hey!" Someone shouts from below me. "Lady! I gotta bone to pick with ya!"

I look down with an annoyed expression at the blonde-haired boy. That's Maribelle's son, right? Noire's friend, Brady. "I'm busy."

I'm currently making more notes on that spell Noire was trying to use. After a dozen modifications I'm still yet to find something that works. I'm sitting down on the outskirts of the camp at the moment. Brady is only a bit taller than my thigh.

"This is 'bout Noire." Brady growls as he points his staff at me. " _Make_ time."

How impudent. "No."

"Too bad." The boy snaps. "I'm not leavin' till you listen."

My notebook closes with a loud snapping sound, and I turn my head and glare down at him. "This better be important, _boy_."

"Oh it is, 'cause it's also 'bout _you_." He says and jabs his staff in my direction. "I ain't lettin' you end up like yer future self, or at least I ain't lettin' yer nastiness hurt Noire no more."

"Pardon?" I say with a raised eyebrow. "My _future_ self?"

"I take it Noire ain't talked about her."

"No, she has not, nor have I asked, because I don't care." I say bluntly.

"She was a nasty bitch." Brady says bluntly. "I only met ya a few times in the future, but you were always angry, ya shouted a lot, ya were mean to Noire even in public." He says with a growl.

"Alright…" I say slowly. "And?"

"I'm a healer, right?" He says. His body sags a bit. "Noire… we used to hang out whenever the Shepherds had meetings, which was a _lot_ because of the war."

His hands tighten on the shaft of his staff.

"She used to come in with injuries." Brady mutters. "She had injuries hidden under her clothes, sometimes a limp, sometimes she was sick, sometimes she was just _cursed_ …"

I see where this is going, and I don't like what it means.

"She never really _told_ me what caused it, and I _did_ ask." The boy grimaces. "But that was jus' formality. I already know what caused it. It could only be _you_."

His head turns up, and he glares at me.

"So what I'm sayin' is... watch what yer doin'. Noire told me about the curse ya put on her, and all the hexin' attempts."

So Noire _did_ notice the hexes…

"I don't want ya turnin' into yer future self. Noire still loves ya." Brady continues. "So as much as I'd like to tell 'er to just stay away from ya, I know she won't. So instead I'm here… tellin' ya to shape the hell up, because right now yer being a _bitch_."

We have a staring contest for the next few minutes. I look at him impassively, while he glares with clear frustration, anger, and no small amount of nervousness. He's the first one to look away, no longer able to contain his nervousness.

"Brady, right?" I say slowly.

"That's mah name." He sighs.

"What makes you think you have the right to tell me how to raise my daughter?" I ask. I'm not being _hostile_ , I'm curious.

"Because if yer a shitty person, ya don't deserve to _have_ a daughter." Brady says bluntly.

That's fair enough. "Do you have any way to enforce this?"

"Uh… no." He admits reluctantly. "Yer probably too valuable to kick out, and I doubt I could get Noire to testify against you."

"Yet you confronted me anyways."

"O'course I did. Noire's mah pal, I want the best for 'er, and if "the best" happens to mean yellin' at her ma, then I'll do it." The boy says firmly. "Even if I ain't so sure it'll work."

I'm actually impressed. Maybe he's a bit stupid to think he can challenge me, but that sort of boldness in someone else's defence is… touching. I'm _not_ sentimental, but I do care for my daughter. Silently, I'm glad to know she has someone willing to have difficult confrontations or just do difficult things on her behalf.

"Well." I say after a bit of thought. "I can hardly argue with that. I suppose I never thought of my actions as truly harmful."

"Really?" He says in disbelief.

"Yes. Those curses and hexes were to test her defences so I could help her later development, and I'm yet to inflict any physical harm on her…" I mutter. " _But_ , I can see the issue you're presenting. I can see myself getting carried away."

"Don't let me stop yah from helpin' her grow… just make sure you get her okay first." Brady sighs. "And there are better solution's than yellin' and punchin' if somethin' goes wrong."

I haven't done either of those things yet. My future self must have been a real nasty piece of work. "Right."

"Really?" He seems surprised that I'm actually listening.

"Yes." I grunt. The reasons for my current questionable behaviour (which I am realizing in retrospect) is mostly out of a desire to ensure Noire is _strong_ , because right now she seems like a total pushover. "You forget, I am her _mother_. I also want the best for her."

"Right." Brady coughs. "So, uh… we good? Message received and all?"

"Yes."

"Good." His body sags in clear relief. He obviously didn't expect this to go well.

"A question though."

"Shoot."

"Is my daughter always so pathetic?"

"Pardon?"

"She lacks confidence in all situations I've seen so far. Is this ever _not_ the case?"

"Uh…" Brady frowns. "I wish I could say no. I ain't ever seen her really confident. She's been _calm_ rather than shy or nervous, but confident? Nah."

"I see." Well that's disappointing. That probably needs to take priority. "And I trust you will continue to help her? From what I've heard, you've been somewhat of an only close friend."

"O'course I will." He snorts, like the answer should be obvious. "Yah can count on me Miss Tharja."

"Good… now go away. I'm working."

"Oh, uh, alright." He hastily shuffles away, and I watch him go.

I've had a few people confront me on behaviours they don't like. Maribelle once talked to me about my generally rude demeanor (which I ignored), Frederick has scolded me about not doing my chores (and I _reluctantly_ listened to him), and Nowi of all people has berated me for being "mean" to the other Shepherds (I kinda listened to her).

Brady is the first who's managed to convince me not through just reason, but _emotion_. Usually I don't care too much what other people feel, but when I comes to my daughter there is no way I can't have a soft spot.

Bah, I'm too soft for being a dark mage. I'm supposed to be cold-hearted...

###

"Miriel." I can't believe I'm doing this, I'm admitting defeat, but Noire really wants this spell to work, and I just can't figure it out on my own. "I need your… expertise."

"My extensive knowledge of natural phenomena, spellcraft, or general knowledge?" Miriel asks calmly as she looks up from the book she's reading. She seems totally unphased by my large form towering over her.

"Spellcraft. There's a spell I need modified, but I haven't been able to manage it." I say through gritted teeth. I _hate_ admitting defeat.

"I see." She places a bookmark in her book, and closes it. "What is the spell? Do you have it drawn out?"

"Yes." I levitate down the spell circle, as well as all my scribbled notes and failed attempts. "The goal is to create a cutoff range for the wind blast so it doesn't risk hitting allies."

"A good idea." She says as she studies the extra diagrams. "I presume these are your previous attempts."

"Yes."

"You… are unfamiliar with advanced spellcraft." Miriel says after a moment. It's not a question,

"Yes." I say through gritted teeth. "Can you do it?"

"I can give you the answer you seek." Miriel nods. "However, if you wish, I can also teach you advanced spellcraft so _you_ can see the answer as well."

Well, that sounds too good to be true. "The catch?"

"I wish to be taught curses." Miriel says simply. "I am currently uneducated in such matters, as Ylisse has no dark mages and as such has no people to teach dark magic or curses."

Hmm… that's a fair exchange. "Deal." I bend down, and offer my hand for a shake. The mage grabs my fingers and shakes to the best of her ability.

###

I watch in anticipation as Noire starts the casting of the spell. With Miriel's tutelage, I've made great progress in my spellcrafting abilities (which I hope to teach to Noire eventually). Miriel claimed that, with my current knowledge, I should be able to create a modification of the spell that does what I want, and this is the first time Noire will be attempting that latest modification.

The spell circle springs into existence around her and electricity crackles along her skin. Noire takes a deep breath, and shoves her arms outward to trigger the air blast. The air visibly distorts as a wave of air is pushed away from her.

Noire immediately makes another movement: she makes a grabbing motion with her hands and twists them upwards. The wave of air stops immediately, just like she wanted.

"It works…!" She mutters with a smile. "Mother, it worked!"

"I noticed." I say. The key to making the spell work how she wanted was tying to magic to movements so she can command the rushing air to halt in place. You have to be very quick, because the wind travels fast, but it _does_ achieve the desired result.

"Thank you Mother." She says hastily. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"Of course." I smirk. "Make sure to practice it before you use it in combat. The spell is linked with your movement. If you're too slow, the spell won't cut off when you want it to."

"R-Right." Noire nods rapidly.

"Make sure the movements are sharp and firm." I add. That's not actually something the spell requires, it's very lenient, but confident movements inspire confidence in the person doing them, and it would seem Noire is in need of that.

"O-Okay."

"And Noire."

"Y-Yes?"

"Try to stop stuttering. You can't cast rituals if you stutter, and I _intend_ to teach you rituals."

* * *

 **This is a decent chapter I think. The Giantess part is mostly irrelevant, but that's to be expected when the main characters are both the same size.**

 **I was gonna do more with Libra, but realized it wouldn't really fit the chapter.**

* * *

 **Invisible Prince** **:** Lucina _is_ Robin's daughter, but Lucina is not a giant. The requirement for being a giant is being born in Plegia, and Lucina was not born in Plegia. Having a giant parent has nothing to do with one's own size.

 **bLuewErewOlf25** **:** I'm not familiar with World of Warcaft, sorry.

 **Makeanotherone:** That's an idea… though I'm not sure how well that's going to fit a written form. Narrating each card move is going to get confusing real quick without visual reference. I think that's more suited to a comic.


	20. Deadlord Kjelle

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **This is a bit of an experiment. I almost never use Kjelle.**

* * *

Dull, faded brown sand whispers in the air as the breeze disturbed it. The grand desert of Plegia, never very hospitable to begin with but now completely lifeless, has been reduced from an oven of vibrant yellowish sand to a lukewarm wasteland with none of the vibrant color it had before. The purple sky and clouds dim the sunlight, casting the world in a dark tint and sapping the usual color from everything.

A single armor knight trudges through the sand while using their spear as a walking stick. The armor they wear used to be shiny and silver with purple trim, but is now scratched, dented, and deformed. It's only due to the wearer's meticulous care that it has lasted as long as it has. The pauldrons and head cover each have a number of holes in them from all the arrows they've stopped, as does the shield on the soldier's back. Burn marks are also visible all over the armor, blackening the surface wherever they've hit.

The soldier's footsteps thump rhythmically in the sand. They've been travelling for hours nonstop, but through dedicated training they can go for hours more and still fight a battle at the end if needed.

The soldier, a girl by the name of Kjelle, came to be in this situation through unfortunate circumstances. A battle went wrong at the Dead Swamp and she separated from her companions in a bid to drag the attention of their enemies. Now, in order to survive, she's forced to traverse the desert proper. She can only hope that her companions survived as well, and will be able to get back to Ylisse.

"It was a trap." Kjelle whispers to herself as she remembers this. "Sable wasn't there…"

That was one of their last hopes for finding the two gems they still need. Azure is lost completely, and Sable is in Grima's possession. Any chance at the Awakening is lost now.

"Feh, even if we did get Sable. We couldn't do it without Azure." The girl grimaces. "This was a hopeless task to begin with."

They were all well aware of this before, but what choice did they have? The Awakening was their last chance to save this world. Now the only option left to them is to retreat from the world entirely, to save themselves and abandon this world, their _home_ , as dead.

Through the power of Naga and the portal magic of the Anna clan, they can flee through a portal to another world. Kjelle knows that's what her friends will be doing, they'll be heading to the Outrealm Gate. It's deactivated, having been destroyed a few years ago, but Annabeth can reactivate it temporarily so they can escape.

First she has to get through this desert though. The Dead Swamp is at the far east of Plegia, a bit on the northern side. The others are probably going through Ferox while she's stuck in this desert.

On the horizon, something comes into view. A stone structure pokes up out of the sand. It looks ruined, as expected, but at this point a short break to all the walking is welcome. A distraction is sorely needed.

It takes Kjelle nearly thirty minutes to actually reach the thing. Walking with armor on is not a quick process. When she does find it she discovers it's a lot smaller than she thought it was, but also very curious. It looks like the top of a tower with small merlons there to hide behind as one shoots.

Conveniently, there's a window in the tower spire just half a meter above ground level. It's easy enough to climb inside. To Kjelle's surprise, the bottom of the spire isn't blocked by sand. She can keep walking down _below_ sand level. She takes a moment to pull a makeshift torch from her backpack and light it so she can see.

It takes a minute to get down to the bottom of the spire, and when Kjelle does she finds hallways leading off from it. The hallways are made of stone and clearly ancient; in some places sand has seeped through, but shockingly the place hasn't collapsed under the weight of nearly a dozen meters of sand above it.

"What in Naga's name is this?" Kjelle whispers as she tentatively glances down each hallway. "Is this a _fort_?"

Her metal footsteps clatter loudly on the stone floor as she moves down the left hallway. She can't be stealthy unfortunately, not with metal armor against stone. Old tapestries lie tattered on the walls; they're somehow still partially intact despite being here for who knows how long.

" _Forts don't have tapestries._ " Kjelle realizes after a few minutes of walking down hallways. She eyes the glass windows just barely holding sand at bay. " _Nor would they have windows like this. They'd have arrow slits._ _This isn't a fort, it's a castle. A castle under the sand… but why? What is this place? Why hasn't it been found before? These tapestries should have been taken and sold a long time ago._ "

Knowing this is a castle, Kjelle quickly realizes she has to be careful not to get lost. She needs points of reference. Does this outer hallway go all the way around the castle? If so, she can use it to navigate because walking around it long enough will eventually bring her back to where she was before.

So, despite the temptation to investigate every door, she keeps walking along the outer hallway. It takes ten minutes before she reaches the next tower; the entrance to this one is blocked by sand entirely. The hallway turns at ninety degrees, and about five minutes later it opens up to an entryway that Kjelle is approaching from the side. Pillars of stone, once ornate, support a tall ceiling. There are torch holders on the pillars, now thoroughly rusted by time and sand. The architecture is _not_ obviously Plegian, but Kjelle doesn't know enough to guess at what it is.

Again, resisting temptation, she walks all the way around the outside hallway first. All the other towers are blocked off, and there's no other hallways leading away from castle. It's literally just a box. That's good for navigation at least. She can just keep walking in whatever direction and be decently sure she'll hit the outer hallway at some point.

So, walking all the way back around to that entryway, she takes a deep breath and pushes open the massive doors. A giant room opens up to her: a throne room. There's not much of interest in there to Kjelle though. There's a few tapestries, a throne, some tables and pillars, but that's it.

Kjelle moves on to a connecting room. An old kitchen. There's nothing useful there either, so once more she moves on. She does this for the entire ground floor and finds little of importance. Faced with a stairway, either up or down, she chooses to go down.

She finds two things in the bottom level. One is a prison, which she scans quickly and then ignores upon realizing there's nothing there. She moves over ot the second room and opens the heavy door.

It looks like an armory, but almost everything is missing. The only thing that remains, propped up at the far end of the room, is a set of red armor, a corresponding shield, and a large sword. It looks like there used to be a full cape on the back of it, but it's tattered and has holes in in. The armor itself is immaculate though, and Kjelle can spy sigils engraved on it all around. There's some on the pauldrons, on the chestplate, on the leggings, the shield, and so forth.

The armor looks a little big for her, but wearing oversized armor is plenty possible. Kjelle has no hesitation about getting out of her current armor and into the new suit. Her old armor is damaged and on its last legs, and while she's sad to leave it she doesn't have the luxury of being picky at the moment.

The new armor is much more blocky than her old armor. Whereas Ylissian armor knights have rounded armor, this one is made with harsh edges and a more rectangular design. It also has a helmet rather than a head plate, which Kjelle isn't so sure she likes. It allows her to move her head more, but provides less protection overall.

New armor is new armor though, she can't argue with that. The sword doesn't seem half bad either and it has a sheath, she'll take that too as a backup weapon.

As it turns out, the armor and the sword are the only things of interest to her in the entire castle. There's no food, no money, no other equipment… just the armor and the sword.

" _Why's it that these things were the only things left? The two things you leave behind are the fancy armor and the biggass sword?_ " Kjelle thinks. " _Weird_."

After exploring everything, Kjelle returns to the armory one last time. She takes a careful look for any hidden rooms, or maybe some smaller things like daggers that might have been hidden somewhere, but there's nothing. So she takes a look at her old armor that has served her faithfully for so long. She props it up on the stand that used to hold the armor she's currently wearing.

"At the very least you get a fitting resting place." Kjelle murmurs, and pats her old armor. "You will not be forgotten, old friend."

Kjelle slowly turns around, casting a last glance over her shoulder at her armor. The torchlight in her hand casts shadows over it, making it seem much more imposing than it did before. The girl smirks in approval, and the carefully closes the door behind herself.

###

It's only when an arrow shatters against her pauldron that Kjelle remembers that her friends have no idea about her new armor. She has to give Noire credit on her good aim though. If Kjelle hadn't turned when she did, that arrow would have come dangerously close to the eye slits in her armor.

"Noire!" Kjelle barks as loudly as she can. "Is that you?"

"K-Kjelle?" Noire's voice calls in return. "Y-You got new armor?!"

"Yes!"

There's some rustling in the bushes, and Noire tentatively steps out with Brady, Owain, and Cynthia next to her.

"Hark! An ally has returned to us!" Owain grins. "We thought you had fallen Kjelle!"

"Well I'm still here. Where are the others?" Kjelle asks.

"W-We had to split up more." Noire mumbles. "Laurent got injured, and when we tried to turn back we got split down the middle. They got out from what we saw, b-but we don't know where they are…"

"We must assume they're heading for the rendezvous." Kjelle mutters.

"That was the plan." Owain affirms. "There is a chance they will get there before us. They have Nah, Helena, and Minerva after all, those two can carry everyone else with a bit of effort."

"Then we need to get a move on. The longer we're in this world, the more at risk we are of getting killed." Kjelle grunts. "Let's move."

"No heroic rescue this time…" Cynthia mutters sadly. "We failed."

"We knew this mission was a long shot to begin with." Kjelle mutters. "It's a shame, but it's better to flee and live than die for no reason."

"This is our tragic backstory!" Owain says, trying to stay upbeat. "Heroes from a dead world, going to save another from suffering the same fate!"

"Y-Yeah!" Cynthia says, clearly trying to join in the act and push aside her depression. "Burned by Grima's fire, injured but not defeated, the second generation of Shepherds are reforged by their time in their home world, and arrive to a new one as saviours and protectors! They are determined to protect this new world in the memory of their home!"

Brady and Noire share a look, but don't comment. Kjelle also refrains from comment. Better to let the two roleplay than dwell on the tragedy of their situation.

Camping that night is a metaphorical breath of fresh air for Kjelle. After a fortnight on her own having her teammates around is a relief… even if that entails listening to Owain and Cynthia sounding like a two man theater performance every time they speak.

Kjelle offers to take first watch when they settle down for the night in an old hunter's shack. She has to clean and maintain her armor anyways. Cynthia and Owain take the bed (old and rickety as it is, a bed is a bed) using their bedrolls as blankets. They sleep back to back. Noire and Brady sleep in their bedrolls near the fire.

Kjelle, for her part, sits near the only window. One shutter is gone but thankfully there is only a small breeze this night. The moon is visible, and bright for once. The red armor gleams as a moonbeam strikes it, though it turns the purple moonlight to something more _red_.

No Risen trouble them through Kjelle's shift. In fact, Kjelle hasn't seen any Risen for the last few days which is _very_ unusual.

Eventually her shift ends, and Kjelle wakes Noire before turning in for the night.

###

"Kjelle?"

They hear Lucina's voice before they see her. She and the rest of their companions come marching out of the woods, injured but alive, and only a day behind Owain's squad.

"Your Highness." Kjelle nods to her.

"Good to see you're alive." The princess smiles. "I see you got some new armor?"

"Found it in an abandoned castle under the sand." Kjelle shrugs. "Weird, but I'm not arguing."

"Armor with magic wards no less." Laurent notes as he inspects the marks on the surface of the armor. "Anti-projectiles, anti-magic… my, this is _heavily_ enchanted armor."

Gerome cuts off the reunion very quickly. "Let's get the portal made. We need to get _out_ of here. The Risen will catch up with us eventually, every moment counts. Annabeth-"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it." The red-haired girl mutters. She sheathes her levin sword (it still feels strange to Kjelle to call that weapons _Annabeth's_ rather than the Commander's…) and pulls out a large bottle with gem dust in it. "I'll start the ritual. Lucy, I need the Fire Emblem and what gems we have."

Lucina hands over the shield, Verte, Gueles, and Argent. Annabeth snatches them up and lays them out on the stone floor in front of the ruined portal frame with the gems set out above the shield. She uncorks the bottle of gem dust and makes a circle of it around the items. She then sits at the base of the circle, makes sure her hair (tied in a fishtail braid) is out of her face, and pulls a small charm in the shape of a bear out of her shirt.

Holding the charm out, Annabeth starts murmuring words under her breath. Anyone listening wouldn't be able to understand it unless they were familiar with ancient Archenean, but Annabeth knows the ritual by heart.

The problem is that the ritual isn't fast, it's going to take an hour, and Lucina's squad had Risen in hot pursuit.

"I see them!" Cynthia calls from in the air on her pegasus. "Coming in from the north… there's a _lot_ of them."

"We have no choice but to make a stand here." Lucina says with determination. "Everyone, get in formation. We musn't let the Risen disrupt Annabeth."

Everyone rushes into their usual formation. Kjelle takes point with Helena and Nah flanking her, and Severa and Inigo beside them creating a V shape. The rest of the frontliners stand just behind them, and all the ranged fighters and healers behind the second line. It's a very simple formation, but against the Risen's complete lack of strategy it's proven more than effective enough.

"Any fliers?" Lucina asks quickly.

"No." Cynthia shakes her head. "There are riders though. Great knights, dark knights, paladins…"

"Elites? Ugh. This'll be a slog." Severa grimaces.

"Cheer up, in an hour we'll be out of here, and we can share a nice cup of tea." Inigo says with a wink.

"No. Fuck you Inigo." Severa snaps.

"Please do." Inigo says cheekily, and then quickly ducks the rock Severa throws at him.

"How childish." Nah sighs.

"Focus, all of you." Lucina scolds. "Brady, Aesir, we're going to be leaning on you a lot here to keep us healthy."

"Got it Boss." Brady nods with a grimace. Aesir nods as well, noticeably more calm, and readies his Physic staff.

Kjelle's brow furrows when she sees the first Risen burst from the bushes. Time to get serious. They can't do a running battle this time, they're stuck here defending this spot which is something they aren't used to doing.

"Here we go..." Nah whispers. She pulls out her dragonstone and raises it in the air, and Helena does the same with her own. Two dragons hover in the air, and a moment later blue fire bursts from their mouths to engulf the Risen frontline.

Noire's arrow snipes an approaching dark mage, and Laurent contributes his own elfire to the conflagration started by the two dragons. Lucina, Owain, Inigo, and Severa all ready their blades as the Risen get close while Cynthia and Gerome circle overhead.

"Oh gods, oh gods…" Yarne wimpers. He grips his beaststone, and a moment later he's crouched in his dire-rabbit form, ready to attack.

Kjelle sneers and levels her spear. Her eyes scan the Risen quickly, noting the myrmidons, brigands, and their advanced forms running towards her. There's also a line of mounted units behind them that are charing at them, which is going to be brutal.

"Alright, dig in your heels." Kjelle mutters to herself. The commander's advice ring's in her ears. "Spear level, shield up. Every soldier has a duty; your job isn't to kill things, it's to protect everyone else…"

" _As a soldier you do your damn job, come hell or high water._ " He had told all of them as they stood before him. He stood tall on the rock, looking down on them with a look halfway between a glare and scrutiny. " _You can all rush in and do whatever you feel like, and you_ _might_ _win, but if you want everyone to get out_ _alive_ _you do your job instead. If that means killing then you kill, but if it means healing, taking hits, distraction, redirection… then you do that first, and killing is secondary._ "

Killing is secondary. Kjelle's job is to attract as much attention as possible while staying as undamaged as possible. Her job is to be _efficient_ so their resources can be focused on other things.

So when the Risen bear down on her, Kjelle doesn't charge in. She shrinks into her shield for protection and uses her spear carefully to ward off other foes, only striking when absolutely sure it's safe to do so.

Dozens of swords, spears, and axes bounce off her shield over the course of the battle. It's almost laughable how little damage they do. Maybe it has something to do with the magic wards on her armor.

The wards only do so much though. When a great knight charges in and smashes her with a hammer, Kjelle still feels it.

She also feels grim satisfaction at seeing the knight roasted by an elfire from Laurent, and then relief at the sensation of healing magic from Aesir.

The first wave of Risen breaks against them. A desperate rage of fire and swords push the undead back, giving the defenders a temporary respite.

"How much longer?" Yarne wimpers.

"Hark friend! A long fight still awaits us. Half an hour it has not yet been." Owain says dramatically.

"Oh gods…"

"Suck it up." Severa growls. She's just finished guzzling a concoction, and tosses the bottle aside. "They're coming back around."

Another round of Risen charge at them. This wave has far more mages, which is immensely problematic for Kjelle. Again, the marks on her armor seems to protect her somewhat, but magic has much more of an effect than non-magic weapons.

It's times like these Kjelle wishes she had a javelin or throwing spear. She can't easily fight back against mages. It's up to her friends to save her from those.

The second wave is pushed back, though with much more difficulty than the first. Much more healing is needed this time around to mend the varied crippling injuries left by their opponents' dark magic.

"Two down." Inigo mutters. "Halfway through… we have this."

For once, no one scowls at the boy or tells him to shut up. Instead grim nods are shared all around, vulneraries are shared around, and everyone prepares for another wave.

Two more waves of Risen break against the children. There are a few close calls, Owain nearly dies three or four times and Gerome is knocked off Minerva during the middle of the fourth wave by a stray arrow, but they always survive. Owain is always healed at a distance by Aesir as Cynthia swoops to his rescue, and Minerva is far too quick to let her rider hit the ground even after he falls off her back.

Eventually, during the middle of the fifth wave, it happens. There's a pulse of wind from behind the children, and Annabeth's voice shouts over the battle. "It's up! Everybody out!"

The battle breaks off immediately. Kjelle finally feels the downside of wearing heavy armor as she retreats very slowly compared to her unarmored companions. No one passes through the portal yet though, and the others center themselves around Kjelle to protect her while she retreats. The Risen press in frantically, now realizing the children's' plan and trying to cut them off.

Inigo is the first one through. He takes an arrow to the shoulder, and while the healers do as much as they can they simply have other people to worry about. An elixir is shoved into the boy's hands, and he stumbles through the portal.

Minerva and Gerome go next. They're too big to keep flying around above them. If they don't go in now, they might not be able to later. Minerva dives into the portal like an arrow, folding her wings to accommodate the squeeze. Helena and Nah have to retreat a moment later as well; they reluctantly exit their dragon forms and slip through the blue shimmering oval.

By this time Kjelle is close enough to the portal that she's positive she'll make it, and everyone rushes in rapid-fire. Yarne slides through at the first opportunity, Noire goes next and Brady shortly after, Annabeth grabs Aesir's hand tightly and leads the blind boy in along with herself, and all the swordsmen squeeze through at once. Cynthia and her mount are next, then Laurent, and then it's only Kjelle standing at the entrance to the portal, fending off Risen with her lance.

"Fuck all of you and your shitty god!" The girl barks. She glowers as fiercely as she can, and walks backwards into the glowing blue light.

###

Kjelle wakes up in a forest, not having realized she had fallen unconscious at all.

It's a bit of effort to pull herself up with the weight of her armor, but Kjelle is more than strong enough to manage. Her lance lies nearby, shaft broken as it sticks out of the ground, but the sword that came with the armor is still in its sheath.

"Well, I guess I'm using you now." The girl mutters. She looks around, and does see her friends anywhere. "Well, Annabeth did say the portal might send us all over the place. It's not like we linked it to anything… but where the hell am I?"

There's snow and deciduous trees all around her. That's a tell-tale sign that she's in Ferox… but Ferox is _huge_. Who knows whether she's at the very north, or near one of the borders, and if she's at a border she has no idea which one.

"Right, first things first. Get food, find a village, find the others." Kjelle mutters as she brushes snow off her helmet. She can already feel the cold starting to dig into her armor. The metal doesn't keep her warm, and her clothes underneath only do so much.

After making sure she's not missing anything and sliding her shield onto her back, she judges where south is by the sun and starts walking in that direction.

###

"Risen…" Kjelle mutters. "So they appeared this early in the timeline."

There's two of them just wandering around in the snow with hatchets. They look like they were woodsmen in life. The fur coats haven't rotted off their forms yet, so they must be relatively recent deaths. Maybe a blizzard caught them out.

Either way, Kjelle knows how to deal with Risen. She draws the sword at her hip, slides her shield off her back, and marches towards the two. They see her coming from a long ways away, and the Risen moan and lurch at her while clumsily swinging their axes.

Kjelle makes short work of the two. Their axes bounce off her shield, and her large sword easily beheads each of them in two quick strikes.

"Pushovers." Kjelle snorts. "These are weaker than even normal Risen back in my time…"

Well that's a good sign at least. Grima isn't around yet, so Risen are laughably weak at the moment.

" _These things can't even dent my armor!_ " The girl smirks. " _Good. If all Risen are this much of a pushover then fixing this world is going to be a lot easier_."

She's still lost in the wild though, and she's still cold. A village would be nice to find before sundown…

###

"I'll admit, I didn't expect to see some knight marching around in the snow when I was travelling today." The Anna says cheerfully as she piles another blanket onto Kjelle. Despite the reputation Anna's have as being greedy (and they are) they don't just abandon people in need, and only jokingly ask for payment.

This Anna was headed between some of the distant villages; she says she buys what one village has and sells it to others, and then repeats. It allows resources to be shared between these villages, especially when specific villages have specialties that the others desire.

"I didn't plan on being out in snow." Kjelle admits. "Or in Ferox at all."

"You must be mighty lost then." Anna laughs. "You're at the very north of Ferox."

"Oh." Kjelle grimaces. "It's going to be a long walk back to Ylisse…"

"You bet, and it's almost winter. In a few weeks, no one up here is going to be doing _any_ travelling. We're all waiting on the first snowfall." The redhead explains. "You won't be getting to Ylisse in time without a dog sled or a horse or something similar." She gestures to her small wagon and the eight dogs attached to the front of it.

"Ah, well that's a problem." Kjelle grimaces. "I have no money, no food… gods, I won't survive a winter here."

"Well…" Anna says slowly as she passes some heated tea over to the shivering girl. "Far be it for me to let someone _die_ when I could prevent it, but I can't really afford to help you for free. I do have a job to do, and feeding another mouth is costly when food is scarce."

"I can work. I'm no weakling." Kjelle promises. "Anything that needs carrying, chopping, _whatever_ , I can do it."

"Good." Anna smiles. "Getting firewood is always a hassle when the trees are weighed down with snow. It'll be nice to have a strong pair of arms."

The two fall silent for several minutes as Anna starts cooking dinner. Kjelle warms her hands by the fire, and the dogs sniff the air and whine at the smell of cooking meat.

Anna just chuckles when she notices Kjelle looking over at the dogs. "Ignore them. They'll get their food in a moment. They're just greedy."

When the food is ready, Anna passes Kjelle a bowl. She gives her a palm-sized chunk of meat, some veggies, and some stale-but-edible bread. It's a veritable feast considering what Kjelle has been living off for the last several months. It's miles better than rats, insects, and the occasional leather jerkin.

Kjelle also does little to hide her blatant hunger, and Anna raises an eyebrow at seeing the girl scarf down her food so quickly, and runs her eyes over her form again. She can see Kjelle's muscle, that's plain enough, but now that she's looking closely she can see taunt, slightly sickly skin. She didn't notice it before, but now that she does it is clear to her that Kjelle was starved.

Wordlessly, Anna starts cooking some more meat on the fire. If Kjelle is going to be working for her, she needs to get healthy again.

###

" _This is beneath me_."

The thought flits through Kjelle's mind as she drags the downed tree through the snow. There was a blizzard last night, and the two started to run low on firewood. Today is a harvesting day of just gathering more resources. Anna is going hunting, and Kjelle is tasked with chopping down and then chopping _up_ firewood.

"I shouldn't complain." Kjelle scolds herself a moment later. What is she doing, complaining about hard work? She's even getting _paid_ when Anna is fully within her rights to not to pay her considering Kjelle literally owes the lady her life.

Even during the dead of winter when snowstorms happen every other day, Anna still travels between villages. Her cart is fully equipped to handle winter; the wheels can be changed out for large skis, it can be fully covered to block the wind, and there's even a stone fireplace built into one side of it for warmth (though you have to be careful when adding fuel, as the rest of the cart is still wood).

Fitting two people into the cart is slightly cramped considering all the food and goods in there, but it's perfectly functional. The logs are stored in a large compartment in the floor to make the cart bottom-heavy so it's hard to tip over, and the heavy goods are similarly stored in the bottom (mostly pelts, which are deceptively heavy when stacked) while the lighter resources are secured in the wagon proper by ropes.

The dogs are more than strong enough to pull the small cart, even with Kjelle's extra weight and that of her armor. Anna admits they're not moving as fast as they usually do, but the eight huskies are plenty strong. The small wagon might be heavy, but it's not beyond the capabilities of eight dogs. Horses would be more ideal for speed and strength, but they simply can't survive in the winter like huskies can.

"Hup!" Kjelle grunts as she drops the tree she's cut down in front of the cart. The dogs raise their heads at the noise, and watch Kjelle with mild interest as she hefts her hatchet and gets to work cutting up the tree.

It's not a full-grown tree of course. There would be enough wood in a full tree to build another one of Anna's wagons, and there's no way they can carry that much wood around at once.

The sword hangs at her side. While Kjelle has made a new spear since she's been with Anna, the sword is just more practical to carry around when doing other things. The sword also makes her feel strong for some reason. It's a chunky, somewhat ornate blade, but it's every effective at cutting things apart. Anna has also confirmed that the blade is magic, though she lacks the materials for a proper appraisal ritual so she can't tell what it actually does.

She's used the sword to cut apart several Risen that wander too close to the cart. It's immensely satisfying.

" _I almost wish there were more Risen around just so I can have the satisfaction of crushing them_."

###

"Bandits…" Anna whispers as she peers through the bush. She clenches her steel sword tightly as she analyzes the situation.

Kjelle stomps up next to the lady, having taken a few minutes to put on her armor. "Feh. They're easy pickings for me. This will hardly be a challenge."

"There's _dozens_ of them." Anna warns.

Kjelle snorts. "So? They won't even be able to scratch me. I could take them all on single-handedly."

"Look, I'm all for killing these guys, but I'm worried you're a little _over_ confident here." The redhead murmurs. "They have mages. Bandits don't usually have mages. These have to be some pretty powerful bandits."

"Bandits are bandits." Kjelle sneers. She draws her sword and gives it a few practice swings. "I've fought elite Risen. They broke against my armor, and so will these fools."

Anna purses her lips. "All the same, let's _not_ just run in there and risk everything on your armor being tough enough. If we fail, the nearby villages might be forfeit. You have javelins, and I have a bow. Let's take out who we can from a range, and only resort to melee if _they_ approach _us_."

" _My talents are going to waste like that_." Kjelle frowns. But… Anna has a good point. Mother and the Commander would never have condoned such recklessness as blindly charging in. You don't charge with your fingers crossed, you _only_ charge to press an advantage or when you have no other choice, and right now there's no particular advantage to press. "Fine. I don't like it, but that's a far more sensible strategy."

Anna breathes a quiet sigh of relief. "Right, so let's circle around back of them. As much as I want to get between them and the village we need to put our safety first, because if we die then there's _no_ chance that village survives."

" _How cowardly. Hiding in the trees as if_ _we_ _are the common thugs…_ " Kjelle thinks with pursed lips.

"Are you alright?" Anna questions suddenly.

"Yes, why?" The girl asks, holding back the urge to snap at the lady.

"I swore I saw…" Anna trails off as she squints at the armor Kjelle is wearing. "Hmm, maybe it's just the sigils on your armor. Nevermind."

Kjelle rolls her eyes and motions for the lady to lead on. The two circle around back of the bandit group as quietly as they can. Kjelle's heavy armor is muffled by the snow under her feet and the slight wind all around them.

Reluctantly, Kjelle sheathes her sword and pulls a javelin off her back. It will take a bit of adjusting with the wind, but with her strength she can throw it pretty far. Not nearly as far as Anna's bow of course, but passable.

"Alright, on the count of three." Anna murmurs, and nocks her bow. "One, two… three!"

The arrow flies silently through the air. The wind batters it a bit, but Anna is plenty used to shooting with the wind in mind. Kjelle's javelin throw is a lot less precise, so while Anna's shot hits a mage and kills him instantly, Kjelle's throw goes wide of hitting _anything_.

" _I knew I should have just charged in_." Kjelle thinks as she pulls out another javelin. The bandits have turned to face them, and all draw weapons. " _Looks like I'll get my chance to beat them down soon enough..._ "

And she's not wrong. There's only so much speed she can get while weighed down with her armor, so it's sooner than later that the bandits catch up and she's forced to turn and fight in melee.

Well, 'forced' might be too strong a word. Kjelle relishes the chance to draw her sword and cut down some scum.

Anna supports the girl from afar with her bow, but Kjelle is mostly ignoring the redhead. Her sword gleefully cuts into the nearest man (an axe-user) and slashes his stomach apart. The man gurgles as he falls to the floor, and the girl gets some sick joy out of seeing it.

At some point Kjelle stops giving much thought to her shield in favour of hacking away with her sword. The marks on her armor glow slightly whenever she's hit by something, but none of the bandit's weapons are strong enough to penetrate her armor… none but the magic users.

"I'll end you!" Kjelle snarls. She takes a blast of fire to the chest, and only then does she remember she has a shield. She brings it up to block the next attack, and only pays minor attention to the flare of black smoke the bursts from the mark on the shield when it's hit.

The knight steadily advances on the mage slinging spells at her. Her shield takes a beating from the magic, and it's not like the other bandits have stopped attacking her in the meantime. Kjelle is totally single-minded in this moment though. Her sword swings with abandon, hacking down whoever steps in front of her.

She's so determined to kill the mage that when he instead falls to an arrow through the throat, Kjelle isn't relieved, she's _furious_.

"That was _mine_!" She snarls aloud. Kjelle violently bisects the next person that comes close to her, and turns her eyes to the red haired lady hiding in the trees. Anna stares back at her with a wide-eyed, concerned expression, but continues to shoot a moment later at the other bandits still surrounding Kjelle.

The knight growls, but turns her attention back to the bandits still bothering her. Any joy she had from killing them before has been stripped away, and she's left with a hot fury in her veins as she slashes at anything in range. She also uses more brutish tactics like smashing heads with the pommel of her sword or shield-slamming bandits to knock them down in the snow so she can have an easier time impaling them.

In the end, all the bandits fall before Kjelle's might (and more importantly, her stupidly durable armor). The last one, a bulky man with several throwing axes, runs out of ammo long before he's even dented Kjelle's armor. It's Anna that finishes him though, as he's far too smart to get anywhere close to Kjelle.

" _She stole another of_ _my_ _kills_." Kjelle snarls under her helmet. The knight stomps her way towards Anna, fuming. " _That bitch…_ "

She's _mad_. How dare Anna steal her kills? Kjelle wanted to have the satisfaction of killing that mage herself. Why did Anna even _help_? Kjelle's armor was strong enough to take _everything_ , she's a one-woman army! Why should… why…?

Kjelle stops for a moment, and violently shakes her head. What is she thinking?! Of _course_ Anna helped, there's no way Kjelle could have reached that mage on her own. Since when has she had an issue with _help_? Sure, she's a bit overconfident occasionally, but Mother and the Commander taught her better than to refuse legitimate help…

So, when Kjelle finally gets within speaking range of Anna, she makes a point of making her first words "thank you" to offset any of the glaring she might have done during the battle. Anna, seeming a bit cautious for a moment, nods a moment later.

"You got a bit carried away there." The lady says.

"Yeah…" Kjelle grimaces. The red color of her armor hides it well, but she's _soaked_ in blood. Her blade is a lot more obvious in it's blood-soaking. "Sorry about that."

"At least the bandits are dead." Anna sighs. "Let's hope we don't have to deal with any more."

Kjelle silently agrees. She doesn't know what came over her, but she's in no hurry to risk a repeat.

###

"Well, here we split ways." Anna says cheerfully. The bustle of the Feroxi capital, Heimillud, provides a backdrop for their quiet talk as the two women talk just inside the entrance. "I don't go any further down south, but with winter over you should be able to find passage to Ylisse no problem. Heck, you could probably just walk at this point if you felt like it."

"Noted." Kjelle nods. "Thank you, truly. You've done so much for me."

Anna shrugs, though she grins as she does so. "I mean… yeah, I'm pretty great. You can repay me by putting in a good word with anyone heading north that I'm the gal to buy from… and rubbing it in my sisters' faces how awesome I am."

"Can do." Kjelle smirks. She pauses for a moment, feeling like there's something else she should be saying or doing to show her gratefulness, but… there's really nothing. "Well, erm…"

"We both have things to do." Anna says, breaking the awkwardness. She hands Kjelle a pouch of a dozen gold coins. "Your pay… and a little extra, seeing as you're dead broke. Don't tell anyone! If they knew I gave you _more_ money than strictly necessary, I'd never live it down!"

Kjelle barks out a laugh. "Of course. You have a reputation to maintain." She bows somewhat jokingly. "I'll be on my way… thank you Anna."

"No problem girl. I'd do it again." Anna smiles. "Now I gotta go. Dogs are getting nervous with all these people around."

"Right, right."

Anna waves at Kjelle as she leaves the city. Her dogs move at a jog, pulling the wagon on it's recently re-installed wheels. The redhead is eventually out of sight when she turns a corner and is hidden by trees.

Kjelle takes a deep breath as she turns away from the gate, and towards the city center. She needs supplies if she's going to make her way down to Ylisse on her own. Lots of food will be important, but honestly a change of clothes and some replacements for her old equipment would be nice, as well as a tent.

"This should be enough money…" Kjelle mutters as she counts the coin Anna gave her. " _Yeah, this is more than enough._ "

She nods, and starts looking around for the market. She wants to get underway as quickly as possible.

###

"DIE!" Kjelle snarls as her sword goes through the gut of another bandit. "You're all pathetic! Who's next?!"

The bandits break and scramble away from her. Kjelle sneers as she throws a javelin at one, and it hits the man right in the skull.

" _These are a disappointing offer!_ " Kjelle thinks to herself. " _The bandits up north were much more worthy of my power!_ _This is just paltry…_ "

The girl wipes her blade on one of the corpses. This group barely took any effort, how disappointing. If Ylisse has nothing that can challenge her, why is she even here? This is not a worthy use of her power.

"Worthy? What?" Kjelle shakes her head. "When have I cared about something being 'worthy' of my power? If it's evil, I kill it. Being a challenge has nothing to do with it."

This has been happening pretty much every time she fights something. She feels incredibly confident, but also incredibly disappointed by how weak everyone is.

"Feh, since when did I become picky? I'm not Severa…"

###

"Hail Prince." Kjelle calls to the group when she sees them. The blue-haired man leading them is easily recognizable by the mark on his shoulder and the sword at his hip. "I would speak with you."

Beside the man, a great knight squints in suspicion, but the prince laughs and placates the man with a gesture. "Of course lady knight! What have you to say?"

"I ask if there is one in your member by the name of Lucina." Kjelle asks. "Or a Laurent, Yarne, Nah, Cynthia…"

"All of the above." The prince nods. He now sports a wide grin. "I presume you are one of the future children?"

"Indeed. I am daughter to Sully." Kjelle affirms, and thumps her chest with a fist. "Kjelle."

"Well, it's nice to meet you then Kjelle." Chrom laughs. "You're only the second child to find _us_ rather than the other way around."

The Shepherds take a momentary break to allow for Kjelle's reunion with her mother and her friends. All her friends are here which is a huge relief, and her parents are both alright (and already married, which means she thankfully doesn't have to hide one half of her parentage).

"It is good to see you are alright." Lucina says with a smile as she greets the girl. "Where did you land?"

"Northern Ferox, just before the winter started." Kjelle sighs. "I spent the winter with an Anna, she saved my sorry ass from freezing to death."

"I see. Relative to the rest of us, it seems you had a different challenge. The rest of us found ourselves in danger of the bandit or Risen sort for the most part." Lucina murmurs. "By the way, there is something you should know."

"What?"

"Kestr- err… _Mother_ , she… well… she's a bit different than in our time. She's an amnesiac, so make no assumptions about her personality from past knowledge."

"Is she still…"

"Yeah, she still won't understand you if you speak." Lucina affirms. "She still uses hand signals and whatnot."

"Still a master tactician?"

"Of course." Lucina smirks. "And she can still smash people's heads in with her hammer."

Kjelle grins. "I look forwards to seeing her in action. I've heard tales of what your mother could do, but I've never seen her fight before."

"It's quite a sight." The princess says with a smile. "Anyways, we should get going. We have a dragons."

"Of course."

"And by that I mean the ritual is happening in a week, so we have very little time."

Kjelle blinks. She thought she would have come back much further in time. There's only a _week_ until Grima rises again? "Say no more. I'm ready."

###

"Ah, Prince, hello." Validar says with a thinly veiled sneer. "To what do I owe the _pleasure_ of your visit?"

"Ylisse is in need of Sable." Chrom says simply. "A great catastrophe is coming, Grima is rising, and the Awakening must be conducted to to stop them."

"Ah, of course." Validar smirks. "The gemstones and the fire emblem, such powerful items with potential for misuse… something Plegia knows all too well."

Chrom's eyes narrow. He thinks he knows where this is going.

"So no, I must refuse." Validar says with a wide, mocking grin. "You forget, boy, I am Grimleal myself. I _welcome_ my god's return, and it is _I_ who will be taking the full fire emblem when the day is over!"

He snaps his fingers, and soldiers rush into the room. He laughs and warps backwards out of Chrom's reach when the prince draws his blade.

"Come at me prince!" Validar calls as the Shepherds rush into the room. "Come, _all_ of you! I can always use more sacrifices!"

Kjelle can feel her blood start to pump and her adrenaline spike at the promise of combat. She instinctively reaches for, and draws, her sword.

Up at the front of the group is Kestrel, who gestures rapidly to communicate orders. Kjelle is directed towards the mages of their group, who she's to guard.

" _My skills are being wasted._ " Kjelle thinks with a scowl. " _Why should I listen to this brain-damaged fool who clearly doesn't know how best to use me?_ "

Despite her irritation, she does as Kestrel orders. There are others watching. This is not the time to be disobedient, even if she disagrees with the tactician.

The fight from Kjelle's perspective is underwhelming. She gets to watch everyone else running around killing Grimleal, and even the mages get to do that from a distance, but Kjelle is stuck standing guard, doing basically nothing…

The fight is won, but Kjelle feels disillusioned. She joined the Shepherds to fight impossible odds, to fight _Grima_ , but she's not. She's doing neither of those things.

" _I'm being side-lined..._."

The Shepherds quickly find Sable after searching Validar's quarters, and make their escape from the Plegian castle. Kjelle marches at the back of the group, eyes narrowed, fists clenched.

###

" _They don't know what I can do..._ "

Kjelle is still awake, scowling to herself as she lies in her bedroll while trying to sleep. Her anger is what's keeping her up.

" _I can do better than them. They're robbing me of a chance to fight. They're_ _mocking_ _me…_ "

She sits up, half snarling, half frowning.

"No, that's not right." She whispers, trying to talk herself down. "That was _smart_ on Lady Kestrel's part. That _was_ the best use for me."

" _Don't be absurd, you're a warrior! A knight! They kept you at a distance from the fight, you_ _crave_ _battle, and they kept it from you!_ "

"But…"

" _You want a challenge, don't you? You say you want to do the right thing, but you've never felt more_ _alive_ _than fighting those brigands, if only Anna hadn't interrupted… and that stand against the Risen was one of your greatest moments!_ "

"Well that's partially true…"

" _We can still have our challenges! We can feel alive again!_ "

"How?"

" _We need the Fire Emblem._ "

Kjelle is going to shake her head, but finds she can't. She doesn't remember standing up, she doesn't remember putting on her armor, but she finds herself standing outside Prince Chrom's tent in front of the guards.

"I've been ordered to deliver an urgent message to the prince." Kjelle lies. She shows them a small seal she took from her backpack. "I'm a Shepherd."

The guards take a glance at the seal, nod, and allow her inside.

Kjelle moves as silently as she can, and navigates to the man's bedside. The Prince is fast asleep beside his wife (it's the first time Kjelle has seen Kestrel without her mask on, and it's a bit unnerving), and his sword and shield are within arm's reach near his bed.

The knight quietly grabs the shield, tucks it in her armor, and slips out the back of the tent by pulling up and ducking under the fabric.

Kjelle doesn't know where she's going, but her body does. She navigates through the desert, heading back the way the Shepherds just came from. The Plegian castle looms tall in the moonlight, and when Kjelle gets close enough she can see there's actually people waiting for her.

"Ah, the last member arrives." A woman's voice whispers. The person in question is wearing a grimleal hierophant cloak. Eleven other figures, each of a different class, stand silently around the figure. "I was worried you wouldn't be joining us, _Mus_."

"I-" Kjelle tries to speak, but she finds her voice overridden. The marks on her armor flash, and start to emit a constant cloud of black smoke. "Of course. I relish the opportunity for a challenge."

"I know you do." The hierophant chuckles. "Tomorrow, you face the Shepherds in front of the table. Be prepared."

"Yes my lady." Kjelle is forced to say.

"Lady?" The figure laughs. "Your host is showing Mus."

The figure pulls down their hood, showing… Kestrel? But without an injury.

"Don't worry little girl." The figure laughs mockingly. "Becoming a deadlord is a great honor. You will serve me well when I ruin this world."

"Who…?" Kjelle manages to croak out.

"Me? I'm Kestrel." The lady says mockingly. "Or, more importantly, I'm _Grima_."

###

Kjelle can see the Shepherds approaching but she can't say anything, she can't fight against the spirit controlling her.

She curses her luck. This armor belongs to a deadlord, how was she supposed to know that? Or maybe it wasn't luck, maybe that armor was planted in those ruins where Grima _knew_ she would find it.

Either way, be it coincidence or planning on Grima's part, the result is Kjelle standing against her allies with her sword drawn and shield at the ready.

She isn't even sure the Shepherds will recognize her with all the black smoke billowing off her armor. She might end this day, and her life, with the sword of a Shepherd through her stomach or burnt alive by their magic.

What a disappointing end. This may be one of the greatest battles she'll ever be a part of, but she'll be on the losing side and be a pathetic shade of what she would be otherwise.

Kjelle hopes it isn't her mother or father who slay her. They'll feel terrible afterwards when they find out. None of her friends either. It would be best if someone like… say… _Henry_ were to kill her. He wouldn't care that much.

The Shepherds assemble, and the deadlords patiently await them. Kjelle knows from the scarce talk between the deadlords that they're all supremely confident individuals, so they're probably assuming they won't even have to put in effort to crush the Shepherds. Kjelle knows better, the Shepherds are going to kick the deadlords around like children would a ball, and then move onto the big fish.

The Shepherds charge, and Kjelle takes a deep breath. Her shield comes up, and her body tenses for a fight.

The first to reach her is (unfortunately) her father. Frederick charges in with silver lance in hand, and Kjelle meets him in battle. His lance is straight and true and slams into her helmet, but the metal and the enchantments are far too powerful for such a thing to kill her. Kjelle counters by hacking at his mare's legs, but the battle-hardened horse is too savy for that and dances out of range.

"Weak…" Kjelle hisses. She's forced to speak by the spirit controlling her. "Want… a challenge…"

"You call me weak, Risen, but you are the one who missed." Frederick scoffs. He circles around for another charge, and Kjelle defends with her shield this time. The lance smashes into the plate of metal and again doesn't do any real damage.

"And you are the one too weak to wound me." Kjelle sneers. "Begone _child_. If you cannot best me, what chance have you against Grima?"

"I need not best you. I must simply occupy you. It is _she_ who will best you." Frederck gestures to someone off to his left.

That individual is also mounted, and charging very fast, with a _hammer_. Kjelle can't reposition in time and the warhammer slams into her chest, denting the armor and causing her to weeze as the metal presses into her body. The sigils flicker, flash, and start to fail from the sheer force delivered to them.

" _Of course it would be a hammer._ " Kjelle grimaces. Hammers are the bane of any knight, besides magic of course.

Kestrel wheels around for another strike, and Kjelle braces herself. Her shield comes up again, and she carefully times a sword swipe to the tactician's charge.

The hammer still deals devastated damage to her shield, but Kjelle's sword manages to connect this time. It leaves a deep cut across the side of Kestrel's horse, which tumbles into a heap in the sand. Kestrel quickly distangles herself from the poor animal and brandishes her hammer at Kjelle.

The lady can't speak, so there's no banter from her. Her charge is silent and terrifying. Even without her horse to add height, Kestrel is tall and dressed in mostly black, and cuts an intimidating figure.

The ensuing fight is a lot more one-sided than it might seem. To the outsider, it might look like Kjelle is doing well on defence, and that's true, but that's mostly because the dent in her chest armor is making it hard to move her sword arm. She _can't_ counter-attack all that well. Whenever she tries the damaged metal cuts into her arm. She's already bleeding in the shoulder from that swipe that took down Kestrel mount.

So it's not much of a surprise to her when Kestrel manages to smash her in knee and knock her to the floor. Kjelle's weapon is kicked away, and she sighs quietly. This is her end, lying face-down in the dust because she picked up the wrong suit to armor to replace her old battered set.

She keeps waiting for the hammer to fall and crush her skull, but it doesn't happen. Instead, she can feel someone working at her helmet, and it's pulled off a moment later.

"Kjelle?" Her father's voice calls. "What are you doing here?"

"Pah!" Kjelle snaps, still compelled by the spirit of Mus. "I am not this person you speak of, I am Mus! Who my host happens to be is irrelevant, they have no power here!"

"I see." Kjelle can't see her father's face, but his disbelief rings clear in his voice. "Milady Kestrel, please help me remove her armor."

" _Kestrel can't understand you Father._ " Kjelle thinks to herself. The tactician must have gotten the message though, as they both work together to peel the armor off her body.

When the last piece of armor is taken off, Kjelle feels exhaustion wash over her body. She's asleep before her father has even finished tying her hands.

###

"Kjelle."

"Your Highness."

"How do you feel?"

"Fine."

"Just fine?"

"No different than usual I suppose."

The blue-haired princess frowns. "Are you still possessed?"

"I don't know." Kjelle says honestly. "I don't know how it works."

"Well Libra and Miriel say you're clear, so I suppose I was just hoping you could _feel_ a difference." Lucina admits. "It was the sword and the armor. That sigils didn't just add extra protection, they acted as a host for Mus's spirit."

"Ah. That explains quite a bit." Kjelle admits. She wore that sword all the time after she lost her lance, so Mus would have been consistently influencing her mind for quite a while. "Does that mean I can leave this cell now?"

"Well, Miriel needs to do a psychological test, but assuming that goes well then yes. We need you for killing Grima."

"Ah, so the ritual went through." Kjelle grimaces. "My apologies your Highness, this is all my fault."

"It's fine. I'm sure if it wasn't you, there was certainly another plan to get the Fire Emblem." Lucina says with a tired smile. "In the meantime though, you need to stay here until we can make absolutely sure you're fine and there are no side-effects of the possession."

"Of course." Kjelle sighs.

Lucina leaves, and Kjelle lies back in her cot. This whole situation is absurd. She got possessed? She didn't know possession was _possible_ , much less that it would feel so… normal. It felt like _she_ was having those thoughts, not like they were being forcefully injected into her mind.

It's over now though. Gone from her mind… hopefully. Now they just have to kill Grima, and she can go about living a proper life _not_ constantly worrying about a literal dragon god murdering her some time in the future.

That will be nice. As much as Kjelle enjoys a challenge, she'd much prefer if _death_ wasn't in the equation.

* * *

 **This chapter… uh… I have no idea what to say about it. I'm using a character I've never used before with an idea (possession) that's very hard to pull of. You can all be the judges of how well it turned out.**

* * *

 **Invisible Prince :** I figured as much, and I know full well biology usually works that way, but I thought this would be a more interesting idea as it would actually limit giants to being Plegian, because otherwise there's no good reason why Ylisse and Ferox wouldn't have a giant population themselves.


	21. Demi-human Second Generation

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **For some reason I'm having trouble with Varied Awakenings chapters. It's not that I don't have ideas, it's just that none of them are turning out well. I tried to write a piece about Grima… and it sucked. I tried to do a request I got asked to do a while ago, and that sucked too. Apparently if it's not about a quirk I have trouble writing it.**

 **So this is a different request, much more in line with my skill set and usual style. It's another one suggested by Invisible Prince for "Monster Second Generation Children". I'm interpreting 'monster' to mean 'demi-human' or just 'not fully human' here.**

 **This'll be fun. I love these sorts of quirks.**

* * *

"Are you-?"

"I'm sure." Kjelle says stoically. "I literally don't have to sleep anymore, remember?"

"Right." Lucina coughs. "Thanks again Kjelle."

"Of course your Highness."

Kjelle watches from the corner of her eye as the princess slides into her bedroll. Soon enough, she's functionally alone because all the others are asleep.

Her armor is noisy, so Kjelle stays still for the most part. If she were human, this would wreak havoc on her muscles… but she's not human. Not anymore. The only thing human about her now is her brain, the rest is stone and magic.

" _That blasted perverted Grimleal._ " The girl snarls silently. There are so few Grimleal left alive, Grima consumed most of them. All of them that are left have to be useful to him… and Kjelle doesn't know _why_ that man was useful, but there's no doubt he was absurdly powerful.

The ability to transform a person is old, _old,_ magic according to Laurent, and not simple to perform. The ease with which the Grimleal enacted the transformation rituals frightened the mage… and there is _very_ little that fazes Laurent.

Only Nah and Yarne were spared transformations on account of "already being such _enjoyable_ little morsels". Kjelle doesn't even _want_ to know what thoughts were going through the man's head when he was leering at Nah.

She shudders. She's glad they escaped the man. They didn't even _try_ to kill him, the children just bolted as soon as they got the chance. Unfortunately there's a good chance they'll never be able to reverse the transformation; they may have their lives, but the Commander was outright killed by the man… at least the transformations are not completely without benefit.

After all, not needing to sleep, eat, or drink is objectively useful in a situation like they are in where food and drink are scarce, and sleep is risky. Kjelle can now be the tireless guardian of her friends, literally.

So what if she's lost her sense of smell and taste, and her sense of touch is muted? It's not like she'll miss having her favourite food, or the satisfying ache of a good workout, or…

…

Kjelle sighs. Maybe she's not as at peace with this as she thought she was.

###

"Can't move…" Severa grunts. Being mesothermic _sucks_. The mornings in this world are cool, which does not agree with her at all. She's sluggish both in body and mind until her metabolism kicks in.

At least she's not truly cold-blooded. That would be even worse. Not that having a fucking _snake tail instead of legs_ isn't already awful. Beyond just the weirdness of it, it also apparently takes a _lot_ of energy to support which means she now eats more than twice the amount of any of her friend, and just feels like a glutton and a burden when mealtime comes around. Sure, Kjelle doesn't have to eat anymore, but their overall food consumption has gone _up_ thanks to this fucking snake tail.

"Ah, you're awake." Inigo says with a grin upon noticing the girl's sluggish activity. He kneels down next to her and helps to haul her into what approximates a sitting position for a lamia (a coiled position in this case). "Feeling lazy this morning?" He jokes.

Severa is too weak to snap at him, and settles for glaring. Stupid elf boy gets to be basically human. Lucky bastard. Now his ego is even bigger because he basically got a _boon_ by being transformed. There's basically no drawbacks to being an elf over a human.

"Noire, how's the food coming?" Inigo calls.

"It's done." The girl responds quietly. She's already filling bowls with soup, and hands two off to Inigo.

"Here we go…" Inigo sets down his own bowl, and holds up a spoon of soup. "Open up."

Severa snarls. "Fuck you, I can feed myself."

"Really?" Inigo says, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't you drop your spoon yesterday at breakfast?"

"Well-"

"And the day before? And didn't you spill the bowl a week ago?"

Severa falls silent. Inigo is right after all. Her hands are half numb, and even speaking is a challenge. It would take an hour to finally shake this off on her own, whereas the hot soup can cure it in minutes, but the only way to eat when she doesn't have energy is to have help.

Just another burden she's forcing on her friends because of this stupid transformation.

When Inigo prods her mouth with the spoon, she reluctantly allows him to feed her. It's embarrassing, it feels like she's being made to be a child, but it's the most logical and convenient thing for her at the moment even if she hates it.

It's a slow process, but she finishes the first bowl. The soup pools in her stomach, lighting a small warmth there.

"More." She says, suddenly starving. She still doesn't have much energy, so Inigo has to go get another filling, and again feeds her entirety of it. " _More_."

Three more bowls go down her gullet before she's no longer starved. By the halfway point of the second she can finally manage the spoon by herself and rapidly stars scarfing down the contents of her bowl, and then the next as well.

It doesn't escape her that everyone else only gets two bowls, _maximum_. She had _five_ , and probably would have had six if Noire herself didn't need one when there was only a bowlful left.

 _Glutton, greedy, selfish._

"Good to see you're feeling like your usual self." Inigo chuckles when Severa accidentally catches his eye after finishing her last bowl and glares at him. "You're welcome."

"Screw you." Severa grumbles. "I don't even know why you help me in the first place."

"Why, I'd always help a lovely lady!" Inigo says with an easy grin.

Says the hot elf to the _girl with a snake tail_. That's desperation if Severa has ever seen it. He's resorting to using compliments on _her_. "Are you sure it's not because the only way you can get a girl to tolerate your touch is if they're literally too weak to move on their own?"

"Ouch." Inigo feigns being hurt, and puts a hand to his chest. "Am I not allowed to help a friend without a scathing remark or suspicion?"

"Not when you call us things like 'lovely lady'." Severa grumbles. "You flattery is as unoriginal as it is ineffective."

"Even if they go unappreciated, my intentions and my compliments are no less true." Inigo counters with an easy grin. "You still let me help you though, you could have asked for someone else. Clearly you don't totally mean what you say."

Severa's eyes narrow. "You keep telling yourself that, but it's still wrong."

###

"Behold! I, Owain Dar- er, _Light_ , will smite thee with my fel- _brilliant_ sword hand!" Owain cries as he raises his sword. He grimaces. "Gods, I have to rewrite all my material…"

"Or you can just keep it the same. It can be your _inner_ darkness." Cynthia suggests.

"I guess…" The boy frowns. "It just doesn't seem right though."

Owain takes a lot of pride in his dramatics, even if others see it as some sort of game or joke. Turning into a lieye upended a lot of his established character. Being human never defined him because it wasn't _special_ , but being this strange being is also unique, so he can't help but allow it to affect him.

He had no idea what a lieye even was before Laurent told him about it. Apparently lieye have been extinct for centuries. Their name (apparently the result of contracting "light-eye" to one word) comes the markings they have all over their body that light up on a whim, but also when startled or experiencing strong emotion. The light is can actually be somewhat hypnotic and psychedelic, so his friends have learned to not look right into his light until he learns to control it.

There are a few other minor changes being a lieye involves. Owain's skin is now grey and pale, so the eye marking (which are varying shades of yellow, gold, orange, and red) stand out like bad tattoos. His own eyes, formerly grey but always sparkling, are now a flat white with no discernable irises or pupils. His hair also suffered, going from bright blonde to a dead-looking pale grey.

He looks like a statue of a sickly guy with a bad tattoo job, and he is very aware of it.

"Owain."

"Ho! What is it fellow hero of justice?" The boy says, trying to shake off his brooding.

"You're shining. What's wrong?"

Owain glances up towards the red mark on his forehead, which glows softly to signify his irritation. "Why nothing of course!" He says as he tries to play it off. "I am merely, uh… contemplating new names for my faithful blade! I'm thinking something like Light… sword."

"Lightsword? That's a bit on the nose."

"It's in progress." Owain says defensively.

"You're not really thinking about sword names." The girl says bluntly.

"No, I'm not." Owain sighs. "I have to change everything now. My battlecries, the names of my finishing moves, my whole act… I don't know who I am now."

"You do know you're not defined by your act, right?"

"But I am!" Owain insists with a strange fever. "Who am I without my act?!"

"You're Owain, the swordsman, son of Lissa and Lon'qu." Cynthia supplies simply. "That hasn't changed you know."

"But acting is what makes me who I am." Owain says quietly. "It's like… imagine Kjelle couldn't be a warrior, or Laurent wasn't allowed to study things. They'd go crazy, they'd lose everything that defined them. Not that they don't have other things they do, but it's _central_ to who they are."

"Ah." Cynthia never thought of it that way. "That can't be _all_ who you are though. No one is that one dimensional… and even if you are, it's probably a good thing to expand your horizons."

"Yeah." Owain sags. "How are you so happy about this?" He asks, not bothering with his act. "You're still your heroic self."

"Well yeah!" Cynthia poses for a moment, but only a moment, because everyone is still walking. "Losing my arms kinda sucks, and I have chicken legs now, and I miss Flurry… but there are still things to enjoy! I still have all you guys after all. We're still the Justice Cabal! Me being a harpy and losing my pegasus doesn't make me not… well, _me_. Just like you being a lieye doesn't make you not _you_. You just have to find out who you are. It's there, you just don't know what you are yet."

There's a small silence, then: "did you swallow a philosophy textbook?"

"Maybe some of the mushrooms we had a few days ago were growing off one. Those ruins _did_ have a bookcase…"

###

"Your Highness-"

"I'm _fine_ Laurent." The girl sighs.

"You have not fed in four days. As per your usual habits, you should be experiencing the thirst by now." The boy says matter-of-factly. "It is imperative you feed when you feel the thirst, lest it impair your performance. I _implore_ you to feed."

Lucina knows he's right… she just hates feeding. It's something that should be disgusting, but because of what she is now it feels amazing, and _that's_ what's so terrible about it.

"Fine…" Lucina grimaces. "But not out in the open."

"As you wish. Perhaps, as we've been travelling for a few hours, we should call a lunch break? You can slake your thirst then."

"Yes, let's." The princess says reluctantly. "Everyone! We stop for lunch as soon as suitable cover is spotted."

Such cover is spotted only a minute later. Several large rocks create a sheltered area just off to the side of a hill where they can set up a campfire to cook.

It would usually be Cynthia's turn to cook, but without _hands_ that's rather difficult so the job goes in turn to Nah.

Lucina pulls Laurent aside quickly. If he insists she does this, she's going to be quick about it… or at least as quick as she can be without hurting him too much. It's never _painless_ , but the numbing venom will make is so he only feels the first prick.

She's a vampire in case it wasn't clear. Snow white skin, red eyes, sharp incisors, the usual.

"Such secrecy is unnecessary." Laurent says as the girl pushes him up against the rocks, just out of sight of the others. "Your feeding is known to the others."

"You know I don't like feeding." Lucina mutters. "I don't want the others to see me do something so… disquieting."

"As you wish." Laurent's tone makes it obvious he doesn't find it 'disquieting' at all. He's never shown any particular discomfort with being her source of blood.

Lucina leans in, refusing to make eye contact from embarrassment, and sinks her teeth into the side of his neck. She tries her very best to ignore the rush of heat in her mouth and the sudden surge of energy through her body.

She feels so _alive_ during and after a feeding, and she hates every second of it knowing that it comes at her friend's expense.

It takes about a minute. Laurent waits patiently, staying perfectly still as Lucina takes her fill.

Lucina is still surprised Laurent's blood tastes normal, considering what he is. On a casual look he seems totally normal, but any prolonged study will reveal his own inhuman qualities. His skin is slightly taut across his face, all his teeth are pointed, his eyes sunken, and he hides his hands in his sleeves and in gloves to cover up the fact that he has claws. If he were to take off his robes, you'd be able to see his entire body is emancipated, even when healthy.

Thank the gods wendigos are _not_ obligatory man-eaters or even carnivores despite being well known for such things.

"Thank you." Lucina says as she pulls away while covering her mouth with her hand. She notices a dollop of blood on one of the two small puncture wounds and, unable to resist, she quickly licks it off him.

Laurent raises an eyebrow, but doesn't comment on her impulsive behavior. "Of course your Highness. I'm happy to feed you."

" _Please_ don't phrase it that way."

###

"Brady…"

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, what makes you think not?"

"You're brooding again."

"Am not…"

"You haven't come out in _hours_. You're definitely brooding." Noire mumbles. "Out."

"No."

"This is _my_ hood. Get out here." She insists softly.

"No."

Noire sighs. She reaches into her hood, trying to grab him, but he hides around the back of her head. She struggles for several minutes to grab him to no avail…

...wait, this is easy. She's making this much harder than it has to be.

A moment later she has Brady dangling in front of her nose, courtesy of one of the many tentacles emerging from her head. The boy gives her a flat, annoyed look, but the effect is somewhat ruined by his butterfly wings and tiny size.

"Brady…"

"Noire."

"You can't sulk all the time." She scolds. Her voice is filled with worry.

"Sure I can." The boy growls. His eyes refuse to meet hers.

"You have to do _something_ else, even if it's just talking to someone." Noire insists. "It's bad for you to just hide away."

"But I want to."

"And I'm saying no." Noire insists. She really doesn't like having to dictate something to him, but she will if necessary. "Brady, please."

The boy lets out a sigh, and deflates. "Alright…"

"I'm worried Brady." Noire whispers. She makes a platform with her hand for him to stand on, and he does so. He's not too good with his wings, so he prefers to stand. "You've been like this for a while."

"Since we got transformed, yeah." The boy growls. "Lookit me! I'm a fuckin' _fairy_! How am I supposed to do anything like this!? I can't use my staff, I'm even weaker than I was before now so I still can't use a weapon; what good am I now?!"

"W-Well, you're still good for things _other_ than fighting or healing… it's just that those things aren't open to you at the moment, because we're on the run." Noire mumbles.

"So I'm useless."

Noire winces. "At the moment… yes."

"Great." Brady says bitterly. "Fuckin' great…"

"It doesn't mean you have to hide Brady." She says softly. "It doesn't mean we don't want you around."

"Feh." Brady snorts. "If I can't do nothin' I'm just another body to look after…" He glances at himself and snarls. "A fuckin' tiny, useless body…"

Noire sighs quietly, then pokes him chest. "Stop. You're starting to get me down too."

"Ah, uh, sorry." He shrinks in on himself a bit. "Don't mean to get you down too Noire. I'm jus'..." He trails off, and his shoulders sag more.

"I know." The girl says softly. On impulse, maybe because he reminds her of a doll at the moment, she runs her fingers over his hair. Brady raises an eyebrow but doesn't outright argue. "We all have issues at the moment. Those transformations weren't all that long ago, and we all have something we're getting over… except maybe Inigo."

"Lucky bastard." Brady huffs. "He gets to be like 'oh no, now I'm even _more_ hot'."

"Yeah." Noire cracks a smile. Finally, some levity.

"I wish _I_ was a elf." Brady adds.

"Me too." Noire says. She absently touches one of the many tentacles coming out of her head, and is very conscious of the numerous tentacles that have replaced her legs. The large improvised dress she has covers them decently well, but it's not perfect. Being an elf would be a lot better in her mind than what she ended up as. Laurent think she might be a scylla, but considering the lack of wolf heads and her _hair_ getting transformed it's likely she's just some generic octopus person.

And yes, that does mean she needs water. About once per day she need to take a dip or she start to dry up, and so the group is basically forced to travel alongside a river or we risk not finding water for her to use in time.

It took a few days for Noire to get used to walking on a dozen tentacles instead of legs. It's _weird_. On the plus side though, they're all super flexible so she have a dozen extra hands (relatively speaking) because of them, and that's not counting the ones making up her hair.

"Brady."

"Yeah?"

"How strange am I?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Are we talkin' in general, or about ya bein' an octo-thingy?"

"Me being an octo-thingy."

"I can't speak for others but… I don't care." Brady shrugs. "Still you, right? It'd be petty if I had a problem with the way you _look_ , yeah?"

"Yeah." Relief washes over her. It was a spur-of-the-moment question, but she's glad he doesn't care. "Thanks."

"For what? Not bein' a dick?" He snorts. "Come on. I'd bet my arm there's plenty o' people who wouldn't care." Internally he's fairly sure that number is higher than it would be otherwise just because Noire is hot, but he's not going to say that.

"R-Really?"

"Sure. Like I said, it's still you, right?"

###

"Minerva…"

"Grrr."

"I'm fine. Stop."

"Rowr!"

Gerome sighs in annoyance as the wyvern continues to groom him by licking his head. "I'm _transformed_ , not injured. You can stop licking me."

Minerva, predictably, doesn't listen. Her tail coils protectively around her the boy and she continues to groom him.

Gerome can't really be mad at the wyvern. He knows she means only the best towards him, and his sudden transformation into a _giant bug_ has her understandably concerned. Him having an exoskeleton and joints is very strange both for him and for her.

Having antenna, however, is just straight-up inconvenient. Not only does it make him look stupid, but they're an easy target for any slashing weapon and are fairly useless. They're just feelers, but he doesn't need _antenna_ for that, he has _hands._

Minerva at least seems to understand that they're delicate. She's very cautious about touching his head now, and even her current grooming is careful to avoid them.

Gerome is just happy he doesn't have any debilitating or drastic changes. The exoskeleton, while strange, isn't that much of a change, and the antena are annoying but not crippling. He still has legs (unlike Severa and Noire), he's not puny (Brady), he doesn't have a sudden addiction (Lucina), he hasn't had his arms replaced (Cynthia), and he still has all his senses (Kjelle). He's not as well-off as Inigo, but he's still fine.

Gerome could have ended up with bug eyes, or a weird mouth, or any number of strange insectoid features. He feels he got relatively lucky with his transformation. He's a freak, but at least he has all of his capabilities and doesn't have to make any major changes to his life.

Any thought he might have had of seeking his mother upon going through the portal have been thrown out though. How does he convince her that this strange bug man is her son? The dimension jumper story was already going to be a hard sell, because even with Minerva as proof the idea is just so outlandish as to be dismissed out of hand.

He feels bad for the others. He knows they were looking forward to seeing their parents. Now only Nah, Yarne, and maybe Inigo will have that privilege.

"Groo…"

"I'm fine Minerva." Gerome repeats mechanically. "Just fine…"

###

"Shit…"

"Aren't snakes supposed to be good at climbing?" Inigo quips.

"Shut up!" Severa snarls. "I don't know how they do it! I barely know how to slither with this thing!"

"Minerva can just carry you." Gerome says in a deadpan tone. "It's literally five meters, it will take two seconds."

"No!" Severa growls. "I'm not an invalid!"

To everyone else, this five meter rock face isn't much of an issue. There are enough handholds that they can clamber up without much of a problem, and quite a few of them can fly. The only person having issues is Severa, because her upper body strength is not anywhere close to strong enough to haul up her lower half.

Lucina considers _ordering_ the girl to accept a ride, but she doesn't want to damage Severa's pride anymore than it has been already. If this takes a long time she'll give the order, but for the moment she'll allow Severa to try and find a way up on her own.

"Mother has studied such things before." Laurent offers. "To climb, snakes must have a surface to push off of. You will need to use your tail to constantly push off surface after surface."

"I have have to push off several things at once?" Severa growls. "Come _on_ …"

She tries, and fails, several times in this endeavor. She finds handhold first, and then tries to find out how to push off rocky protrusions around her. The necessary movements are just too unnatural for the girl, and she ends up falling off the rock face several times.

"Stupid fucking cliff." Severa growls while pulling herself out of the grass again. "Stupid fucking tail."

"Come on Sev, you're going to hurt yourself if you keep this up." Inigo says. His expression is still a grin, but there's a hint of worry in there. "Seriously, that can't be good for your back, or your neck, or your head."

"Shut up Inigo." Severa growls. "Don't _patronize_ me."

The boy purses his lips and falls silent. He glances at Lucina, silently pleading at her to stop Severa. The pale girl considers it for a moment, but shakes her head. She holds up two fingers, and mouths " _two minutes_ ".

Inigo sighs, but doesn't argue.

Two more times Severa tries in the two minutes. She makes even less progress than she did the last time, in no small part due to her mounting frustration. By the end her nails are chipped and broken, it's clear her back hurts from the stiff way she moves, and she looks on the verge of tears from anger.

"That's enough Severa." Lucina says once the two minutes are up. "We need to move. You can work on your climbing skills another time." She motions for Gerome to lead Minerva down to pick her up.

Severa reluctantly slithers onto Minerva's back with Gerome's help, and the wyvern carries them both up the rock face in less than ten seconds.

The redhead is silent for the rest of the day.

###

"Hoho…" Inigo's eyes light up when he sees it. "This is just what we need."

He's out on a foraging mission. Generally this is done in teams, but at the rate their going through food they need to split up to cover more ground to find enough. Just now, Inigo hasn't found _food_ , but he's found something just as useful.

A small grove of flowers, nestled between two large hills. How this spot has remained untouched by Grima's blight is beyond Inigo, but he isn't about to argue. It's a bit far away though, it's going to take a dozen or minutes for him to get to it. He originally noticed it as a splotch of color on the horizon, and moved to investigate.

He's going to be returning late for this though. Hopefully everyone doesn't worry too much.

When he finally arrives at the grove, it's better than he could ever have imagined. There's multiple types of beautiful flowers here. Roses, lilies, bellflowers… wow… Inigo can't imagine this wasn't curated by someone at some point.

He spies the reason this place has remained untouched. There are wards bearing the mark of Naga engraved in stones and placed around the perimeter of the garden. There's an old, abandoned shack just on the outside of the wards. Some hermit must have made this place.

"These should make for a good pick-me-up for everyone." Inigo murmurs. "I'll take a dozen to show them, and hopefully I can convince them this place is worth stopping by."

Their lives have been rather depressing lately… well, it's been depressing for _months_ since Grima rose, but particularly depressing after their transformations. The others could use a reminder that life isn't all bleak.

He can imagine their reactions now… Gerome will ignore him, Brady will snort, Severa will scoff, and Lucina will shake her head. Inigo knows they'll all secretly appreciate it though. They just like playing the tsundere.

Especially Severa. " _I should pick something specifically for her._ " He finds a rose, and takes a moment with his dagger to de-thorn it. It's not the most elegant ever, but it's functional.

She'll scowl and call him a pervert for it, but she really does need something nice done for her. He knows she's been feeling like shit lately. Her transformation hit her particularly hard.

As he's making his way back to camp, he can see Cynthia flying in expanding circles in the sky. Inigo sighs and waves her down. She's probably looking for _him_.

"Iniiiiigo!" The girl yells as she descends. Her wings billow out to catch the air, and act as a parachute to bring her rapid dive into a controlled landing. "Where have you been?! You're late! Everyone's been looking for you!"

"Well-"

"Come on, come on!" She takes off again, and grabs his shoulders with her talons. Inigo lets out an unmanly yelp as he's hoisted into the air.

"A-Aren't I a little heavy?" The elf asks. He's _very_ concerned about being dropped… and about the flowers he stored inside his vest getting blown away.

"I'm not that weak!" Cynthia huffs. "And you're not that heavy! I can totally carry you!"

"I think I'm flattered?"

"Haha. Like men care about their weight that much." Cynthia huffs.

"I'll have you know some of us take great pride in being in shape!" Inigo says defensively. "Myself included!"

"Yeah, I know, I'm just joking around." The harpy says.

In the time needed for their brief conversation, they've flown all the way back to camp. Inigo notices (with faint dread) how everyone has rushed over upon seeing Cynthia carrying him, and notes in particular Lucina's crossed arms and Severa's murderous glare.

"Uh… do you think you could put me down _away_ from Severa?" Inigo asks weakly.

Cynthia doesn't reply. If Inigo had looked up, he might have noticed her smirking as they start to descend.

"Cynthia…" Inigo says worriedly as they go down. "I said _away_ from Severa."

Cynthia promptly lands him directly in front of the furious redhead. Inigo noticeably flinches under her stare, and with her tall stature (thanks to her tail granting her extra height) she looms over him which adds to the intimidation factor.

"H-Hey guys." Inigo says with a weak smile when Cynthia releases him. "I hear you missed my handsome face."

"Very funny." Severa snarls. Her pupils have contracted from anger, reducing them to just a line down the middle of her eye. It's an unnerving look to have directed at oneself. "Where. The hell. Were you?"

"Indeed. This is something I would like to hear as well." Lucina says with crossed arms. "Inigo, explain yourself."

"Well, there was this shack." He starts.

"Ooh, a _shack_." Severa hisses. Inigo has his back turned to her to speak towards Lucina, so he can only hear Severa and not see her. He's half expecting to get hit at any moment. Her voice is very close to his ear and is causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stick up.

"Severa, give him a moment." Lucina whispers. Her expression hasn't softened though. "I want to hear this."

" _Oookay, she's mad_." Inigo thinks. His smile is growing more and more forced by the second. "W-Well, it payed off though! I found something very important!"

"Really?" Lucina says with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

He reaches into his vest, and pulls out the numerous flowers he found. "Flowers of course! A nice little garden of them! Well worth being late for!"

Inigo could have heard a pin drop in the next few seconds. Even Minerva, sensing the mood, goes totally silent.

"Okay, uh, I know that sounds really petty." Inigo says hastily. "But seriously, things have been so grim lately, I thought some flowers might… help…?"

Lucina lets out a long sigh. "Inigo… next time tell someone first."

"Oh don't be absurd!" His light and breezy confidence is back in an instant. "You would have never said yes! That's why I had to grab a sample first!" He hands the girl a blue bellflower and winks at her. "Perhaps this will convince you of my noble intent?"

Lucina sighs again, but accepts the flower anyways.

Inigo cheerily hands flowers to each and every one of his friends. He approaches Severa last, hoping to give her time to cool down, but the girl is still giving him a death glare when he walks up to her with rose in hand. "Come now, that smile ill suits you!"

"Fuck you."

"If you in-" Inigo coughs suddenly. "Uh, I mean, no need to be so cruel dear Severa!" He offers the rose. "I acted with only the best intentions, bringing _joy_ to our fair group!"

"You got flowers to try and get in the pants of any girls we find." Severa snaps. "You _philanderer_."

"You wound me!"

"And you disgust me." The girl responds quickly.

"Sharp…" Inigo sighs. He presents the rose again. "Hmm? Like a rose?"

"All you can offer me is cliches?" Severa sneers.

"And a rose." Inigo grins. "If you don't want the cliches, maybe the rose will do?"

Severa doesn't stop glaring, but she does snatch the rose out of his hands. She slithers away, growling and seething, but at least is careful with the rose.

Inigo considers that a job well done.

###

"Help…"

Kjelle gives the boy a flat look. "You're the one who insists on sleeping with her. You deal with it."

Brady grumbles as the girl walks away. He struggles against the tentacle holding him in place, but it's a fruitless task. He was never strong as a human due to a medical condition, and now as a fairy he's barely able to lift a _spoon_ much less break out of someone's grasp.

"Having fun?"

Brady gives Inigo the middle finger.

"Just wake her up."

"No." The fairy glances at his sleeping friend. Noire is a heavy sleeper, hence why all this talking and Brady's struggling hasn't woken her yet. "She needs all the sleep she can get, yeah?"

"If you say so." Inigo chuckles.

"I don't suppose _yer_ gonna help?"

"Nope." He sits down against a log. "I'll watch though."

Brady snarls, but goes back to his futile struggle.

"Why do you sleep with her anyway? This happens every few days." Inigo asks curiously. "I mean, unless it's the obvious reason…"

"Get yer mind outta the gutter." Brady grumbles. "I'm light now, yeah? Strong breeze could blow me away. I sleep in 'er hood for safety. If I'm hidin' there, ain't no breeze gonna get me _killed_ in the middle o' the night."

"Aren't you worried about getting squished?" Inigo teases. "Since you're so tiny?

"I'm not _that_ small smartass." Brady scowls. "Her head weight ain't enough to hurt me."

"I… hope not." Noire yawns. "G'morning Brady."

"Mornin'."

"Inigo."

"Hey there."

"Noire." Brady says.

"Yeah?"

"Lemme go."

"Oh, uh…" She releases the grip of her hair on him. "Sorry."

"S'fine. Safer at night anyways." Brady mumbles. "Thanks again."

"Of course." Noire sits up and stretches. "Gotta my bath. Who's making breakfast this morning?"

"Kjelle." Inigo offers.

There's silence for a moment, then Noire says. "No, really, who's making breakfast?"

The elf cracks a smile. "It's actually Luci."

"Thank Naga." Brady sighs. They took Kjelle off the cooking rotation a long time ago because she's objectively the worst cook ever. (At least, according to everyone here she is).

"Has she already gotten water?"

Inigo peers around the tree to the spot where Lucina is starting to cook. "Yeah."

"Good." Noire stands up. "I'll be back in a few minutes. If I'm not, come find me." She glances at Inigo with a slight narrowing of her eyes. "And _only_ then."

"I would never dream of anything else." Inigo says with a bow. After she leaves, he asks. "Why does everyone always think I'm a pervert?"

"Because you hit on anyone with boobs?" Brady mutters.

"I do not!" Inigo protests. "Flat is just fine too."

"Doesn't help your case."

"My case? Says the boy who _sleeps_ with-"

"Hey!" Brady barks, cutting him off. "I do that because I'm worried about _dyin'_! An' you know nothin' else happens! Don't compare yer flirtin' to that!"

Inigo looks like he's going to continue, but he reluctantly doesn't. He internally admits that would be a low blow on his part. "Fine… but seriously, I'm not _that_ petty."

Brady raises an eyebrow. "I mean, yah have yer moments, but they're few an' far between."

"Not so!" Inigo protests.

"Oh really?" Brady scoffs. "Name _two_ nice things ya've done in the last month that wuzn't done with flirtin' in mind."

"I mean… those flowers."

Brady snorts in disbelief.

"Come one I'm serious!"

"Sure, sure…"

###

"Owain, please." Lucina sighs as she shields her eyes. " _Stop_ that. I can't take it out if I can't see."

"I don't know _how_ to stop it!" The boy whines.

Lucina squints harder and grimaces. Her vision is starting to swim from the hallucinogenic properties of Owain's light. It doesn't help that as a vampire she's already light-sensitive, so his light is especially annoying for her.

Getting out an arrowhead is always a messy ordeal. It's especially bad now that Brady can't use the heal staff, forcing Laurent (the only other of them even vaguely familiar with healing magic) to try and heal them. The arrowhead still has to be taken out first though. Lucina has Brady's old healer's knife, but without being able to _see_ this is rather difficult for her.

"Naga help me…" Lucina grimaces. "You know what? I'm just going to cover you. If the cloth gets bloody, so be it."

She warps one of their spare cloths around the boy's entire body to block his light as best as she can, leaving only the necessary spot open. Finally she can _see_.

"Laurent."

"Yes your Highness?"

"Even when the arrowhead is out, wait for my say-so before you start healing. I have to make sure there aren't any shards or debris in the wound."

"As you wish."

"Owain… this is going to hurt." She says bluntly. "I'm sorry."

Magic healing is a finicky thing. It's powerful, not doubt, but all it can do is _restore_. It doesn't remove things from a wound before healing it, and it takes the most direct path to restoration which means it doesn't move bones. That means if a bone is out of place, healing magic won't change that before healing up, resulting in dislocated bones.

For tasks like these healers carry absurdly sharp knives to cleanly cut open their patients and remove debris from already-healed wounds after a battle is over. It's not too unusual for them to also forcefully shift the bones of their patient to facilitate proper healing as well. It's generally unpleasant, but usually preceded by Sleeproot paste as an anesthetic.

Unfortunately, the group doesn't have Sleeproot. So this is being done without painkillers of any sort.

"It's fine." Owain grimaces under the cloth blocking his face. "M-My fell- er, _divine_ sword hand will not be stopped so easily by a mere arrow!"

Lucina takes a deep breath, and gets to work.

It's a slow, agonizing process. Owain would compare it to literal torture, except the goal is to help him. Lucina has to cut him open, wash out the wound, find the arrowhead, take it out, look for other debris, take and/or cut _that_ out, and only then can he be healed by Laurent to stop the pain.

It doesn't help that Lucina is _not_ a healer like Brady. She _can_ do it, Brady taught everyone how just in case, but it's slower (and therefore more painful) than if Brady were to do it.

And Brady _can't_ do it, because he can barely lift up the knife.

Owain, for his part, is doing his very best not to whimper make noise in general. He's the great Owain Dar- Owain Light!

Also, Cynthia is watching. He doesn't want to look like any more of a fool than he already does with this cloth thrown around his body as he's repeated cut into with a knife.

When it's finally done with, the only thing Owain can do is fall on his back in exhaustion. Lucina gives him a sympathetic look, and Cynthia carefully steps over to look down at him.

"Fear not fellow Cabal member! I, the great Owain, have successfully survived the trial by knife!" Owain says. He raises a hand up triumphantly, but only for a moment. It flops back down to his side a moment later because it's too exhausting to keep it up. He's totally drained.

"Feeling okay?"

"Exhausted." Owain says bluntly. "I could go for a nap."

"How about going for a shirt first?" Severa calls over from… wherever she is. Owain doesn't care. "No one wants to see your scrawny chest! Cover up!"

"Give her the middle finger for me." Owain mutters. He's too tired to raise his hand again.

"I don't have fingers." Cynthia reminds him, and flaps her wings once. "Remember?"

"Oh, right."

"Owain says 'fuck you'!" The girl calls to Severa. She looks back to Owain. "Does that work?"

"Perfect." Owain chuckles. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to just lie here for a bit…"

* * *

 **Seeing as there's no real overarching narrative to this, I'm just going to stop here. I could do these little scenes for a long time before running out, and I might do more. This was quite fun.**

* * *

 **Invisible Prince** **:** I know there's ways to make it work. I decided on my interpretation because I thought it would be fun. It would be neat if I had time to write a _lot_ of things, but I have to pick and choose because there's only so much time. I have nothing against your desires of course, but there is a reason I warn that I probably won't do requests/suggestions exactly as they want.

 **Bakururu** **:** I sent you a message about this, thanks for catching my mistake!

 **Ren4gade :** :D


	22. Grima the Creation

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening. All rights to the owners.**

 **Taking another swing at the Grima idea I mentioned. Pretty crappy, it's a departure from my usual style, but a fun experiment for me.**

* * *

I, Grima, the Fell Dragon, used to be innocent.

That sounds like an absurdity, doesn't it? How could a nihilistic monster have been innocent? I hate… no, no I don't. I _love_ to be the one to break it to you: _every_ creature starts out innocent. Most creatures, due to their low intelligence, remain innocent as well.

I wish I was one of those creatures.

My early life, the first few months I think, were the only times I would know peace. Time was actually somewhat fluid and irrelevant during this period, hence my uncertainty on how long it was exactly. I was an infant, and a content one at that. I hovered in a jar of red liquid and was content with the warmth and quiet.

Learning that there was another being in existence, the dark mage Forneus, was exciting at first. After I learned he feared me though, it was a worry. I shall spare you the exact details as they are unimportant; just know that in the end I killed him after he tried to execute me.

I was his creation. He should have been, if not a father, a guide. Instead he was at first an exploiter, and later an intended executioner as he feared I would turn against him. He saw dark thoughts in me, and so drew a tome on me when I slept.

As if every child has not had dark thoughts. Even human children think about violence, they torture insects, they are greedy and self-centered. They need to be _taught_ to be decent individuals. Forneus didn't even try, he never intended to. I was supposed to be a tool, and when it became clear I was more than that I had to be extinguished.

I survived my creator, but I couldn't stop humanity. A host of warriors would enter my creator's abode where I still dwelt. I had practiced my control over my creator's _other_ experiments, though I knew not their name, and used them to attempt to defend myself.

Despite this attempt at resistance, I was struck down by the leader of the band. He bore a special sword, which I would learn in my next incarnation was one of the Falchions.

Naga sent her servants to kill me, without care for my circumstance, without ever meeting me, without a care that I was young and in need of guidance. I was not natural and so, apparently, deserved death.

###

My second life started with my re-summoning by a cult. I was not the target of their summoning, they searched for something lesser than myself, but I saw an opportunity to come back to life and took it without hesitation.

I wish now that'd I'd stayed formless. My second life brought unintended consequences.

My form was still small compared to what I would eventually become, but it was stronger than these summoners. They were far from the band of warriors that had slain me before. In my desperate panic I struck out and slew all but one, and he was only spared because he kneeled and begged.

I can't tell you why I allowed him to live, not really. It was so long ago… Perhaps I saw something familiar in his fear of death, perhaps I understood what it felt like to be the victim, or perhaps I just saw a tool to use to keep myself alive.

With that man, I gained my first disciple. I would regret it in the future, but at the time being able to mentally speak with my new servant was incredibly convenient. I learned of the larger world through his eyes and marvelled at how different it was from the labyrinth where I'd spent my entire first life.

I marveled for only a small amount of time. Learning of war, and human prejudice against anything that was not one of their own (and even against themselves on occasion) quickly renewed my fear and hatred.

I knew, as young as I was, that in order to live safely in this world I would have to eliminate all humans on it. They were my enemy, they sought either to exploit me like my creator or these summoners, or to kill me like the band of warriors.

I was more than willing to return the favor, but I had to wait. If I was not prepared to take on a group of the warriors' power again, there was no point of me even trying. So I waited for _years_ in the underground summoning area. I grew, and learned through the eyes and ears of my servant (and later multiple servants). The summoning area was expanded to accommodate my massive form, and soon I had grown large enough to outsize a castle.

The rediscovery of the thanatophages by one of my servants was the last tool I thought I needed to begin my war on humanity. I had my servants create hundreds of death masks with the bugs, and had them being to lure unsuspecting people to be killed and turned into the same undead servants my creator had made so long ago.

The only Terror I could not recreate was the Vestel, which I would learn later was because they required a very specific sacrifice and ritual. It was simply impractical for me to make them anyways, so I never did.

With a small army of Terrors and cultists, I rose from the underground summoning room in the middle of the desert that would eventually become Plegia and descended upon whatever human settlements we could find.

The fledgling Ylissian empire fought back, but they had help I had not expected. Formchangers like Taguel and Manaketes rose to fight me, as did all manners of metahumans. My enemies became more than humanity, more than just the followers of Naga that despised me, I thought, with no reason. My enemy became my fellow dragons, taguel, elves, harpies, lamia, succubi, vampires, golems, as well as powerful elementals, intelligent undead, angelics, demonics, giants, yokai, and even a signal arcanamoth.

In short, my enemies became _everything_ ; and ff the world would make an enemy of me, I would gladly return the favor.

That war was the furthest I ever got in my endeavors. I razed the desert villages and the tentative expansions Ylisse had made there before moving on the country proper.

I managed to reach the capital before I was slain. Again, it was a Falchion that took me down. Naga once again blessed the man who would kill me.

###

The voices didn't stop when I died. My attack on humanity garnered me new followers, and it so happened that I could hear their pathetic and greedy prayers even as a formless spirit. Even death held no peace for me anymore.

I suppose an admission is in order at this point. I never met Naga through my entire life. I've never spoken to her and never seen her. All I know is that she despised me from the moment I came into being, because why else would she send her servants to slay me when I was innocent?

She and her followers became the main target of my anger. I was a formless spirit, but I could still communicate with my more powerful followers. I told them their main enemies, and they did so with enthusiasm. They founded Plegia, and slowly made a nation and base of power.

The new generation of my followers were more corrupt and selfish than the last. It was the centuries of communication with these terrible people that cemented an irreversible hatred of humanity in me.

If I am to be honest, my third and last life was probably the least eventful. I had an advanced and effective plan. My draconic form would be incredibly magic intensive to revive, so I had my followers breed a host for me so I could walk the world without the need for my dragon body until the time came that it could be revived. When that time arrived I had the current leader of my cult, Validar, attempt to assassinate the Ylissian royal family. I had the thanatophages experimented on so that they would automatically target bodies and turn them to Terrors under my control, and automatically fashion death masks from surrounding materials. The beetles my master modified so long ago would become my greatest weapon. No longer would they need to be manually applied, and death masks manually added.

Even when the plan started to fall apart, and my vessel rebuffed my attempt at possession, I was unphased. I was enraged, but unphased. The vessel was a convenience, a comfort. He was unnecessary in the long run.

The existence of parallel dimensions came as a shock to me, but it was useful. I gained new enemies in the form of the future children, but also help. A new vessel was sent through the portal, freshly severed from her connection to an alternate version of myself. I accepted the offering, and possessed her.

It would seem the only one I could rely on was myself. I would honor the gifts my alternate self gave me: powerful Terrors and a host. In return I would slay those who escaped from him in his name.

In the end though… I failed. I failed my own objective, and I failed to kill the children.

I fell from the sky, slain by my _intended_ vessel. Betrayed by he who was supposed to be myself. Humanity truly had no redeeming qualities.

As I fell into the ocean, losing breath, drowning… the voices stopped. All the frantic calls in my head, pleading for power or offering false worship, stopped.

In the ocean there were no humans. I was truly dying, and so my ability to communicate with my followers was disappearing.

There were no voices, no manipulations, no fighting, nothing. It was cold, the opposite of my place of birth, but it felt comfortable all the same. Blue, cold, silent, all-encompassing…

I stopped fighting. I found what I wanted.

" _Finally… peace…_ "

* * *

 **Short, probably terrible. As I said, this is an experiment. Character studies are not something I do, and not something I'm good at. Gotta start somewhere though.**

* * *

 **Kweh Viola** **:** Indeed. They're already not human, so it felt redundant to give them more powers.

 **Guardian54** **:** I've seen it, very interesting, but I was going for a something specific with Brady so I didn't implement that.

 **Invisible Prince** **:** I stuck with the usual plotline for the future with only a minor twist to add in the which means no Morgan because he's either an enemy or just non-existent.

I can't guarantee anything. I choose ideas I want to do, and do them how I want to do them, because that makes fanfiction fun for me. I'm fine with your idea, I'm just not sure when (or if) I'll ever get around to it.


	23. The Titan Sinkhole

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **Don't worry, we'll get to Second Gen Replacement eventually. I'm hesitant to start it because with Pokemon in Fire Emblem (the only other proper multi-chapter story in this collection so far) I noticed I had a hard time keeping it under control. It got too many characters way too quickly, and I worry Second Gen Replacement will have a similar issue. I rely** _ **heavily**_ **on your familiarity with all characters to avoid having to explain everything every chapter, and that just doesn't apply when doing an AU like this where half of the cast is just** _ **gone**_ **.**

 **So in short, I'm trying to find a way to make it work without it being super confusing. I won't be effectively** _ **doubling**_ **the cast size like with Pokemon, but I'm still taking out half the cast, changing the roles of the other half, and adding about a dozen new characters.**

 **Originally I was going to focus this chapter on Naga, because last chapter was Grima, and then I realized Naga is** _ **way**_ **harder to do than Grima and isn't nearly as interesting. Instead then, I'll do something completely different.**

* * *

"Am thinking we are lost…"

"Yeah…"

The mercenary and the manakete cautiously push aside the large blades of grass in front of them to peer out from around their cover. The landscape doesn't look too unusual at first… until you realize the grass around them are the size of large bushes, and the trees tower at the size _castles_ would usually reach.

"Gregor has heard of this, or at least he thinks so." The mercenary whispers. "Hole of Titans. Very dangerous."

"You mean the Titan Sinkhole?"

"Potato tomato."

"I think it's 'po-taeh-to po-tah-to', or the same thing with tomato."

"Is exactly what I said!"

Nowi rolls her eyes and changes the subject. "So what do we do? Do we turn back?"

"Ho-ho! Little dragon is scared of big plants? We still have mission to complete, no?"

"I mean, yeah." Nowi mutters. "But there's a reason I haven't come here in my thousand years of life. This place is known to be _super_ dangerous."

"So is fancy magic jungle, but we go there anyhow, yes?"

"I guess…"

"Then we keep going. We have mission! We find bandits, we kill bandits! We take back fancy dinner things."

"Why would they steal dinnerware anyways?"

"Expensive. Will sell for good money." Gregor grunts. "Now come! We move. Stay in grass so we not be seen."

"This is crazy…" Nowi mutters. Nonetheless, she follows the man when he skulks off into the grass. They _did_ take this mission, and they do need the reward, so leaving was never really an option.

Plus, Gregor will probably need her to bail him out at some point with a little draconian firepower.

###

"Wow… I can't even see the bottom." Nowi mumbles while she peers over the edge of the cliff. She can see multiple layers of land below her too. Each section is massive in size. Eventually, due to the accumulation of fog, her vision is obscured from seeing further down. The sinkhole is so far across that the other side is just barely visible. It could be compared to a large lake in size, though much _much_ deeper. "Are we going down?"

"Is possible." The man muses. "If we not find signs of bandits elsewhere, then yes."

"I really hope we don't."

"Come now, you are young! Where is sense of adventure?" Gregor jokes. "We can take detour even if we do find bandits! Maybe have picnic few levels down, yes?"

"No!"

The mercenary laughs. "Am joking. We not have enough food for that. Next time."

"There is _not_ going to be a next time." Nowi mutters.

The manakete counts them lucky that in their several hours of walking around the surface of the sinkhole they haven't found anything unusual beyond giant flora. She's seen a lot of normal sized animals like birds and rabbits, but thankfully nothing crazy yet. She's probably the biggest thing here at the moment if she were to turn into dragon… and she hopes it stays that way.

"Am not seeing any signs of bandits though." Gregor sighs. He takes a seat at the edge of the cliff and lets his legs dangle into the abyss. "If this take long, we need to hunt, or maybe go back to get more food. Not preferable."

"We should start hunting _now_ , that way we can save our rations." Nowi suggests. "I can go dragon and get a boar."

"Hmm… but that put you in the open. Being in open not safe." Gregor mutters. "Maybe we hunt rabbit. Not go flying above grass, yes? I can use hand axe."

"Fine." Nowi pouts.

###

Nowi is silent as she stares up at the _massive_ figure stalking the night. She only noticed it because it's head blocked the moon for a moment. In a slight panic, she keeps her eyes on the creature while she shakes Gregor awake.

"Oy, oy… why you wak-" The mercenary is silenced by the girl slapping a hand over his mouth.

"Look!" She hisses.

Gregor squints at the figure, not quite able to make it out until his vision adjusts to the darkness. "Oh... okay, that might be a problem. Perhaps we be putting out campfire, yes? Not draw attention to ourselves."

"R-Right." Nowi quickly kicks dirt onto their fire and knocks apart the wood to disperse the heat. Embers and small flames remain, but it's small enough that Nowi hopes the creature won't notice.

They spend the next hour watching the giant creature slowly move across their vision. Eventually it leaves their sight, hidden by massive trees. Gregor goes back to sleep, leaving Nowi to stress away the rest of the night as she watches for the giant _thing_ that never actually ends up coming back.

###

"Gregor…"

"Come now! Is just big rabbit. It give us food for long time!" The man laughs.

The rabbit in question is the size of a cow. It's absently munching on the massive grass as Gregor and Nowi converse a few dozen meters behind it.

"I won't argue with that… but maybe _I_ should take it down. It's big, you might get hurt."

"Gregor is not so old that he cannot hunt!" The man scoffs. "Little dragon can help if she wants, but Gregor not going to be left out!"

As it turns out giant rabbit skin is pretty thick, but nowhere near thick enough to stop a swing of a sword from someone as strong as Gregor. It can hardly be called a hunt: he slits the animal's throat with a single strike without it even reacting to his presence.

"Ho! And little dragon was worried." Gregor teases. "Look now! We will eat well tonight, yes?"

"Uh…"

"Why little dragon sound worr-" Gregor says, and then pauses when a shadow looms over him. "Ah… we are in trouble."

"I think that was the kid." Nowi says quietly.

"Oh. Okay, now we run."

Both of them bolt back the way they came, and instantly hear the loud impacts of the rabbit hopping after them.

"Maybe now little dragon become big dragon?" Gregor shouts.

"That takes a second!" Nowi calls back. "We need a place where the bunny won't get us!"

"Can Nowi be doing in the air?"

"Yes!"

"Then we jump!"

Nowi doesn't know what he means at first, but when he turns to head towards the cliff she realizes what it means. "I hate this plan!"

"Somehow Gregor is not surprised. Jump on three, yes?"

"Fine!"

"One, two, three!"

The two of them leap off the edge of the cliff and over the foggy abyss. Nowi immediately begins channeling her dragonstone, and in three seconds she's gone from a young-looking girl to a house-sized dragon with seaweed-like wings. She quickly orients herself, spots Gregor falling through the air, and goes into a nose-dive towards him.

Nowi can see another level of ground below them which they are rapidly approaching. She growls, folds her wings so she's not creating any wind resistance, and manages to scoop up Gregor in her jaws before unfurling her wings again and softening her landing on the ground below them.

"Oof… Gregor thinks little dragon bruise his ribs." The man grunts when Nowi puts him down. "Little dragon is okay?"

"Yeah." Nowi mumbles. She turns back to her human form and rubs her legs. "I landed way too hard. Do you have a vulnerary? My legs are stinging."

"Here go."

Nowi takes a moment to down the drink as Gregor cautiously takes in their surroundings. The giant grass that was present above is much less common here, mostly likely due to the omnipresent fog blocking a portion of the sunlight. There are also several mushrooms, both giant and normal, all around them. Gregor recognizes a few of them, but most are totally foreign to him.

"You can be flying back up, yes? Am not sure we want to be down here."

"Normally I'd agree but… you see that?" Nowi says, and point off into the fog.

Gregor squints. "Am old, can't see as well as little dragon. What you see?"

"I see a camp." She says. "It might be an old site. Looks like the logs have been broken by something, but still…"

"...is probably bandit camp. Is clue. Good eye. We can go investigate?"

"Sure. It's across the chasm though, so I'll fly us."

Nowi turns into a dragon again, and Gregor climbs on her back. It's a deceptively long flight across the sinkhole. Nowi's sharp eyes spotted the other side from much farther than human eyes could ever hope to, and she has the fly the length of a lake to get there. It's quite a distance, but flight is quite a quick mode of travel so it only takes a few minutes.

"Little dragon see so far in fog? Impressive."

"The fog isn't _that_ thick." Nowi scoffs. "You just have terrible eyesight."

"Oye, oye. Little dragon not have to be so harsh. Gregor is old, not deaf."

They touch down on the other side with Gregor wiping condensation from his shield. Nowi's wings are covered in water drops, and when she turns back to a human her hair is damp as a result.

"Cool, free shower." She murmurs appreciatively as she runs her fingers through her hair. "My clothes are gonna cling now though."

"Little dragon already wear tight clothes. Little difference wet or dry, yes?"

"Don't let other people hear you say that." Nowi jokes. "Anyways, about this camp…"

"Gregor find remains of fire. Am surprised. Very damp here, must have been hard to get started." The mercenary mutters as he kicks over some ashes. "Old place. Sitting logs are broken and rotted, no easy tracks, trampled grass has regrown. Month old at least Gregor thinks."

"You can tell all that just by looking?"

"Is obvious enough if one knows the signs. Is damn, so fungus form quickly. They not replace sitting logs with stones or new logs, or scrape off fungus, so it not being used. Ashes are damp, so no recent fire, and normal grass not trampled or torn, so no traffic of foot for a while." Gregor explains. "Old place. Obvious, yes?"

"Not to me…"

"Take some training Gregor suppose. Can teach if little dragon wants?"

"Yes please!"

"Good! First though, we look around, yes? Perhaps we find something else left behind."

Curiously, this other side of this level of the sinkhole has different flora and fungus. There's less giant grass and more normal grass, and less giant mushrooms too. It's more notable for the incredible abundance of berry bushes.

"Hmm… perhaps we be having berries tonight yes?" Gregor murmurs. "Rotberry, very healthy."

"Blech." Nowi sticks out her tongue in childish disgust. "Those are sour."

The mercenary laughs as he picks on and pops it in his mouth. "Come now, is no time to be picky! Little dragon knows this."

"Yeah, but it doesn't make them taste any better…"

The rest of the day is spent exploring the area around the campsite. Just near sundown Nowi finds an indent in the wall several meters off the ground that's large enough to accommodate them, and they set up camp there for the night.

There's no fire this time. There's no firewood to be found, and it's far too damp for their flint and steel to work anyways.

"Gregor not being able to take first watch tonight." The man says apologetically. "Fog too thick. Old man eyes not see well in this. Be pointless for me to stay awake, yes? Perhaps we both sleep?"

"I guess…" Nowi mumbles. Now that she's not moving around, the downside of her clothing is starting to show. It was designed mostly for show, but also to help against the heat of the Plegian desert. It was _not_ designed to keep in heat from being in the slightly chilled air of a foggy sinkhole. Her body heat from moving around was keeping her warm before, but now that they're bedding down for the night… not so much.

At least she has her bedroll. Though that's only so effective. She's used to having a fire for heat at night. Maybe she should consider buying a cloak.

"Little dragon cold?" Gregor asks after a minute.

"Yes…" Nowi grumbles. "I'm a dragon, I don't make all of my body heat. Are you sure we don't have firewood? Just a little? I could use my dragon breath to light it."

"No kindling, no wood." The mercenary whispers apologetically. "Cannot do. Sorry."

"Grr…"

"If little dragon cold…" Gregor says slowly. He's well aware how bad this could sound, and is relying on Nowi _not_ to overreact. "Gregor is warm. Will share."

It's dark with the moonlight mostly blocked by the fog, but the mercenary swears he can see Nowi staring at him in the darkness. He's about to add " _Gregor is just joking!_ " when Nowi finally speaks up. "You don't mind?"

The man breathes a sigh of relief. "Of course not! Gregor want to help."

He can hear the rustle of her getting out of her bedroll, and then the feeling of her curling up against him in his own. It's like… a fish just crawled into his bedroll. She's clammy and damp from the fog. "Thanks for this."

"Is fine. Gregor be bad friend if he let little dragon freeze, yes?"

"Even though it looks bad for you?"

"Gregor look bad for helping friend?"

"No, because I look young." Nowi frets. "People tend to have a bad reaction to that…"

"People are foolish, they not understand change very well. They see something familiar, and assume it is same thing they know of." Gregor murmurs. "They see Nowi, they don't see dragon lady. They see little girl. Maybe you _are_ little girl for dragon, but you are still smart, you still have mind much older than you look."

"Yeah…" Nowi mumbles. "But even if people know that, they still think it's weird and creepy when I make friends with anyone older than a kid. Kids are fun, don't get me wrong, but I'd like to have some other friends too."

"Gregor understand. Other people not understanding Nowi, and it frustrating, yes?"

"Yeah."

"Well… Gregor understand. Or, Gregor _try_ to understand."

"I know. Thanks Gregor." Nowi yawns. She snuggles as close as she can to the man to try and shake the chill from her bones. "G'night."

"Goodnight little dragon."

###

"Have found something!" Gregor calls.

Nowi slips over to his side from where she was looking. "Uh… what is it?"

"You be telling me. Consider test for tracking skills Gregor has been teaching."

"Okay, uh…" Nowi carefully studies stone Gregor indicated. "It's eroded, so it's been in rain or water for a while."

"Yes, and?"

"The erosion is mostly on one side, so it was… rolled upright later? The side that isn't eroded was on the bottom."

"Correct. Continue."

"Uh…" Nowi frowns. "I dunno."

"Nowi not paying attention to _why_ stone was moved." Gregor explains. He grabs the side of the stone and (with some effort) turns it around to the other side. "See now?"

"Is that… a map!?"

"Indeed. Stone moved upright and against wall to protect and hide map carved on other side. Also, stone is upright to make more space for vertical map."

"How was I supposed to know that?!"

"Because you can look." Gregor chuckles. "But also, think as to _why_ bandits would bother moving rock. Not like rock was in way before. Clearly important for some reason. Not always map of course, but if something moved that not in way there is usually reason for it. Not _always_ reason for it, but can't hurt to look, yes?"

"Why did they put a map on a rock anyways? It could be found out, like you did."

"Lots of fog, yes? Map on parchment get soggy and ruined. Stone more durable. Also, more trouble to make lots of maps rather than just one, yes?"

"I guess." Nowi mumbles. "Wow, this is a complicated map."

"Probably also why map is here at all. If way was not complicated, no need for map, yes?"

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"Let us see… we are here." Gregor points to a certain section on the second level of the map. "So we need to go down two more, and around a bit. Look for… whatever this is."

The map is very rough. Gregor is trying to identify a splotchy drawing to just the left of the bottommost part of the map.

"Is that a… flower?"

"Maybe. Gregor don't know. Will find out when we get there, yes? Want to fly down, or walk?"

"Walk. We're less visible that way." Nowi says. "We're just two people, even if I'm a dragon. Better to be sneaky, right?"

"Point is made! We sneak then."

Gregor takes a few minutes to scratch down the map on some parchment. The paper won't last too long in the damp air, but hopefully it won't have to. Gregor thinks they should be able to reach the bandit camp by dusk, easily.

Though considering how well the fog blocks the sun, they might not be able to tell when sundown _is_ when they've descended a few more levels. Or, at least, Gregor won't be able to with his non-draconic eyesight.

"Be on lookout for bandits now." Gregor murmurs as they start following the map. "Who knows when bandits come back out for another raid, yes? Might be running into them on way down."

"Got it."

The fog, as expected, grows more dense the more they descend into the sinkhole. The third level (the one below where they slept last night) is absolutely covered with different kinds of mosses. Gregor isn't sure if the rocks the mosses are growing on are massive, or just the moss itself.

"Perhaps we being careful, yes?" Gregor murmurs. "Stick to path. Who knows what strange mosses do."

"Yeah."

They go through the third level as quickly as they can to avoid staying near the moss. Gregor consults the map again, and sighs when he realizes that they still have quite the ways to go if he's reading this map right. They need to go a quarter way around the edge of the sinkhole, which is going to take at least a few hours. "Still long walk. Little dragon not tired?"

"I'm good! I should be asking you that!"

"Am not dragon, but Gregor no pushover!" The mercenary scoffs.

Curiously, the fog seems _less_ dense down here. Gregor remembers Miriel mentioning that fog is basically low-lying clouds, so maybe the clouds here stay around the second and third levels?

Either way, it's very dark here, but some visibility remains. The world is almost entirely monochrome in shades of grey and black, but general shapes can be discerned.

"Hoping little dragon can see better than me. You lead perhaps?"

"I can. Hand me the map."

Gregor keeps one hand on Nowi's shoulder as they walk. They're forgoing a torch for the sake of stealth.

Without light, Gregor can only see so far around himself. Nowi keeps a quiet running commentary of what she notices, which includes mushrooms, some moss, and…

"Woah."

"What is?"

"That's a _massive_ ant." Nowi mumbles. "It's as big as a dog."

"What it doing?"

"Ripping apart a giant mushroom."

"No interest in us, yes?"

"Yeah, we're too far off for it to notice us I think."

"I suggest we be keeping it that way."

Nowi points out a few other large things as they walk around: a giant bat the size of a wyvern, a mosquito as big as an eagle, and a large… _thing_ that looks like a floating sheet of grey flesh. According to Nowi it looks "large enough to fill the floor of a great hall or something. It's just floating there. It blends in so well with the fog. It looks alive though, it's rippling..."

It's also out over the abyss rather than the level they're walking on, so the hope they _don't_ have to find out what it is.

"We _should_ be coming up on whatever this bad picture of a flower is supposed to be." Nowi whispers. "I don't see anything like it yet. No sign of the bandits either."

"Then we keep going. Does not matter if we don't know what flower is, so long as we find bandits."

They walk along in silence for several minutes. The cold is clearly getting to Nowi, who is starting to shiver a little. Gregor is starting to be unnerved by the quiet down here. Apparently it's got quite a few massive denizens, but he hasn't been able to hear any of them. All he's been able to hear (and see) is Nowi and himself.

The ground is usually dirt, which surprises Gregor. This huge platform is coming out of the side of a sinkhole, he was expecting clay or stone. There is _some_ stone of course, but it's usually dirt. Do all levels of this place have dirt?

The texture of the floor changes abruptly. It's clearly plant matter. It doesn't feel like grass though.

"Nowi…"

"Yeah?"

"What we walking on?"

"I dunno. It's some planty _thing_ that sorta drops off into the abyss. There's a few sheets of it I can see that overlap each other, and a bunch of big vines too."

"Strange."

"Maybe it's some… uh… big leaf?" Nowi suggests tentatively. She squints off in the direction of the wall. "I see something tall over there. Maybe that's the plant stalk."

"Little dragon still know where we going?"

"I think so."

"Then we go. Not be poking at things here. Could be dangerous." Gregor sniffs the air. "You smell that too?"

"Yeah. Smells sweet. Like, _crazy_ sweet." Nowi murmurs. "Ooh, I wonder if there's honey…"

"Oye, little dragon is not _bee_. Focus, yes?" Gregor says. He will admit the smell is _very_ enticing though. If they weren't on a mission, he would be inclined to go follow the scent.

"Right, right…" Nowi mumbles. Gregor can't see it, but she's salivating. "No honey."

They make slower progress across the leaf-like ground, in no small part because Nowi is slowing down to be able to smell the honey for longer. Gregor hurries her along as best he can. This place isn't considered highly dangerous for nothing, and he suspects the sweet scent is a trap of some sort.

Once they're off the giant leaf and the smell of honey starts to fade, Nowi can finally focus again. "Okay, okay. That was probably the drawing of a flower… so we should be close. Look out for fire I guess."

"Well, Gregor do see light… he thinks." Gregor says as he points to their left out in the voice. "Is fire, or just break in fog?"

"No, that's a light." Nowi says, surprised. "Huh, I can't even see the ground it's on."

"Is floating?"

"Dunno. Maybe it's just thick fog."

As they get closer it becomes apparent very quickly it's _not_ just thick fog. The fire moves about over the void. There's no obvious way to reach it, and Nowi can't tell what it's attached to.

"Well, if that is bandits, they have to come to land eventually yes? We wait and watch. Can't just fly in or we be outnumbered."

"Right."

"Let us find place to sleep and keep watch… and get you warm. Little dragon is shivering again."

Finding a place to sleep proves difficult. They're wary of the giant mushrooms for fear of what spores they might hold, so that eliminates a lot of otherwise good options. They settle for hiding in a small crevice that looks like it was scraped out by some large animal. There's no _current_ signs of anything living there, which is why they're willing to risk camping in that spot.

Nowi takes first watch, being the one with better eyesight. They're waiting for some sign of the fire landing, or just some sign of how the bandits could actually _get_ to the fire.

The answer comes in a few hours… she thinks. The fire seems to come close, and dip down, and then get blocked by the wall Nowi and Gregor are hiding behind. The manakete listens with baited breath. She hears footsteps, voices, and at that point decides to wake Gregor.

"Gregor!" She whispers. "Wake up!"

"Eh?" Gregor blinks groggily awake. "What is-"

Nowi slaps a hand over his mouth. "You hear that?" The man listens, then nods. "What do we do?"

"Well…" Gregor murmurs and pushes her hand aside. "If people leaving, we follow. If they are moving dinnerware, we need to get it before is sold. Take out bandits leaving, wait for… _whatever_ to land again, then storm base."

"Right." Nowi mutters. "Okay, follow my lead."

Gregor quietly pulls out his silver sword and dons his shield. "Am ready."

Footsteps pass by, and a torch carried by one of the bandits illuminates the area a bit. Gregor and Nowi don't pounce on them instantly and instead stalk along behind them. They need to wait until there's enough distance between them and the camp before they start fighting, or help might come and they'll be overwhelmed.

Nowi does glance back to get a look at the place where the fire landed. She can see… what _is_ that? It's a huge creature, easily as large as a castle. It's flat at the top, but with a large and round lower body, like a giant leathery bubble. The fire comes from a small campfire on the top. There's even some dirt and plants on the head of this thing, it's like a living floating island. The dirt and such is all held on top by a series of small bony hooks pointing upwards out of the thing's head. More specific details are hard to make out thanks to the fog.

She'll tell Gregor later. That's kinda cool actually. The bandits have a base on a floating balloon monster! She wonders how they control it to come to land…

After she judges the group of bandits they're following have put enough distance between them and the floating thing (which she thinks has taken off back to the air) Nowi whispers to her companion "now?"

"Gregor think so."

"Right…" Nowi grabs her dragonstone. "Let's go then!"

Without further preamble, the little girl sheds her mortal form and turns into a large dragon. Her scales reflect the light of the torch the bandits are holding, not to mention the light generated by the transformation itself.

The bandits immediately notice. They start shouting and pointing, and draw their own weapons. Gregor thinks it's almost laughable that the bandits actually think their iron weapons are going to _scratch_ Nowi, but he's underestimated bandits before and paid for it, so he'll take this seriously.

"Now, friends…" Gregor says, and steps forwards so the torchlight just barely catches him. "Can do this easy way, or hard way. Prisoners, or dead. Your choice. Remember, I has dragon."

"Gregor…"

"Okay, dragon is friend. Not _mine_ really."

One of the bandits responds by throwing his axe, which Gregor casually blocks with his shield.

"Hard way then. Hoping you be fond of fire!"

Gregor hardly has to do anything. Nowi's dragonfire decimates the small group with ease. It takes only a minute to kill all of them. It takes them longer to sort through the bandit's belongings than it does to fight them.

"Gregor was very much overestimating bandits. Novices…" The man notes as he checks a backpack. "Gold, food. Not much."

"This guy has… well, _had_ , some papers. I sorta burned them." Nowi notes as she kicks open another pack. "Oops."

"Not a problem. We sent to retrieve dinnerware, not papers. Dinnerware not burn so easy." Gregor says dismissively. "Not be worrying about things we not assigned to do, yes?"

"Yeah, okay, that works."

"Also, other bandits probably saw that, with you using fire and all."

"Yeah…"

"So, I know I say we not fly over and attack, but… maybe we fly over and attack? We been exposed, so maybe just press advantage now? Could be dangerous to try and sleep with others looking for us."

"Sure. I was getting tired of sneaking around." Nowi grins. It renders the point of them hiding out last night kinda pointless, but they were expecting these bandits to be a lot more dangerous than they turned out to be. "They're gonna be so scared~!"

Gregor laughs as his friend transforms, and climbs on her back. "Well then! Let us show that dragon still scariest creature here, yes?"

Nowi responds with a wordless roar. She beats her wings and takes to the air, and Gregor holds tightly onto her neck. She make a beeline for the campfire she can see on the floating creature. Even in dragon form, the giant creature dwarfs her in size. Nowi dives under it to come around the other side, and quickly blasts fire across the dirt on it's top.

A slew of arrows respond to her fireblast. Most of which bounce of her scales, but some find chinks and sink into her flesh. They're negligible wounds to be honest, but Nowi takes it as a warning not to get overconfident.

"Need to land so Gregor can fight!" The mercenary reminds her. "Cannot help you here!"

"Trying!" Nowi growls. She spews more fire, causing the assorted bandits to scatter in an attempt to avoid her. It does stop the arrows for a moment though, so Nowi quickly lands, Gregor jumps off, and the dragon takes to the air again.

"Come now! Face Gregor, yes? Better sword than burning!" The man laughs.

"We'll do neither!" A female voice snaps back. "Johnny!"

"Got it boss!" A spark of yellow electricity appears in the fog. It grows for a second, then is launched in Nowi's direction. It clips the girl's wings and sends her into a temporary tumble.

"Oye! No one be hurting little dragon!" Gregor shouts. He rushes headlong at the group with his shield up in front of him for defence.

Gregor engages two bandits. He easily batters aside their axes with his shield, and slashes their chests open with his blade. An arrow embeds itself in his shoulder armor, and he turns around and raises his shield in that direction.

A bright light and fierce heat pushes away the fog a moment later as Nowi bathes the back of the creature with fire again, and incinerates a few of the bandits in the process. Gregor stumbles when the ground lurches under him, and a low keening sound snakes over the combatants. The creature then starts rising into the air, and Nowi follows with rapid beats of her wings.

"I think I hurt it!" Nowi cries. She doesn't sound particularly happy about that. She doesn't _want_ to hurt the thing, but she has to hit the bandits!

"Creature is tough, also animal! Focus on mission!" Gregor shouts.

"Oye! Don't be killin' our Bessie!" One of the bandits bellows. A javelin comes flying out of the fog at Gregor, and he only barely blocks it with his shield. The point of the javelin goes through his shield and stops a few inches from his face.

"Oh, bandits being a bit stronger than Gregor think." The man mutters. "Nowi?!"

"I'm here, I'm here!" The manakete cries out. She inhales for another round of fire, but a thunder attack from Johnny slams into her chest and causes her to cough and lose the fire.

"Okay, Gregor not finding this fun anymore." The mercenary growls. He drop his sword, rips the javelin from his shield, spies Johnny charging up another thunder, and hurls the weapon at him.

Gregor's general weapons training proves more than enough to accurately throw the weapon over such a short distance. It slams into the man's side and easily breaks through his flimsy mage robes. The mercenary will admit a grim satisfaction at hearing the man's cry.

Without the mage in the way, Nowi is free to bathe the battlefield in fire. She carefully avoids Gregor, but still manages to wreak havoc on the bandits.

Now that he's close enough, Gregor can see there is an actual building on the back of this creature. It looks like a primitive shack made of logs (which is now very much on fire courtesy of Nowi), but big enough to provide sleeping space for a few dozen people.

It looks like there might have been people in there, but they're very dead by this point from being trapped in a burning building.

"Fuckin' dragon..." The female voice growls again. "Everyone, focus on that damn beast! I'll take the old man!"

"Oye! Gregor not old!" The mercenary huffs indignantly. "Middle age! Still has half of life left!"

The lady doesn't signify his protests with an answer. She stomps into his view: a lady in piecemeal hide and metal armor bits with a wicked looking and well-maintained scimitar.

"Oh, hello." Gregor chuckles. "Finally stop hiding behind others, yes? Is a shame to kill pretty lady… well, not really. Pretty or no, bandit is bandit." Gregor raises his sword. "And blade is more fond of bandits than I am."

"Hilarious." The lady sneers. "I'll take it from your corpse. A silver blade is too good for you old man."

"Told you already, Gregor is not _old_ …"

The bandit breaks off repartee by lunging forward with a quick overhead swing. Gregor blocks with his shield, and the duel commences properly.

The mercenary decides he can't afford to take this fight defensively. Sure, Nowi is strong and can probably take on all the other bandits… but he'd rather not take that chance. So Gregor leverages the huge advantage that is his shield and presses the bandit back with rapid snaking strikes of his sword. She's frustratingly quick and dodges a lot of his strikes… but he only needs one or two hits.

First he clips her on the shoulder, then he gives her a shallow cut on the shin, and finally he gets a solid trust to the stomach after a solid two minutes of her dancing around his strikes. Gregor doesn't give her a chance to recover, and swiftly beheads her when she falters from the pain.

Gregor might like banter, but fighting has to be done practically to survive. He takes a moment to inspect the scimitar, concludes it's worse than his own sword, and kicks it off the edge of the creature.

"Okay, that being done with… little dragon?"

"Yeah?" Nowi's chipper, not-dragonish voice chirps up behind him. "They're all dead by the way. I got 'em."

"Good, good. Now we find plates and forks and such."

"We're getting paid a lot for this, right?" The manakete sighs. "We fought a bunch of guys and went into a super dangerous place for _plates_."

"Jeweled plates." Gregor reminds her. "And yes. Paid very handsomely."

"We better be." Nowi mutters. "Let's get these plates and get out."

That particular line of action is interrupted by the sudden intrusion of sunlight onto their darkness-accustomed eyes as the creature they're riding breaks the fogline and rises up above the trees. It's body starts to swell as it rapidly takes in air.

"Gregor not liking this." The mercenary warns. "Be grabbing things, quickly!"

The two scramble into the burnt building and frantically sort through the loot at the back. Thankfully what they're looking for is right at the top of the pile, so Gregor shoves that roughly into his pack. He suspects there's no time to be careful, and is proven right a moment later.

The creature, which had swelled to nearly twice it's size and which is hovering high enough in the sky that even the oversized trees look small, suddenly releases all of it's air and shudders violently. It's whole body rattles like an earthquake, sending dirt, corpses, logs, and Gregor and Nowi flying from it's back and into the sky.

Nowi acts quickly and channels her dragonstone. It's the second time in a few days she's had to catch her companion midair after a sudden transformation. She again goes into a steep dive and (more gently this time) catches the man between her jaws.

"Land soft this time, yes? Only have so many vulnerary." Gregor jokes. He seems quite unfazed by this second fall. He has a grin on his face. "Don't break backpack either. Has fancy dinnerware in it."

Nowi would respond if her mouth wasn't full. She lands carefully this time, _without_ injuring her legs. She turns to watch the giant creature (now visible as a huge, leathery grey creature with a dozen small blue eyes scattered all around its body, three-hundred sixty degrees, just below the spikes holding up the dirt. It has no legs or arms, it's just a massive balloon-looking thing) sinking back down into the fog.

"This place is _freaky_. Can we go now?" Nowi whines.

"What? Nowi not wanting to be seeing _more_ balloon island creatures, giant rabbits, bats, ants, mushrooms, and… maybe giant flower with vines?"

"Nope. We're getting _out_ , we're flying out _right now_." The manakete insists. "I'm not staying here a moment longer than we need to!"

Gregor chuckles. "Alright, alright. We be leaving then."

The man clambers back onto his companion's back, and she takes to the air again. She makes a quick circle, scanning for any more flying _things_ she should be wary off, but, seeing nothing, she turns around and flies back to where they came from, _away_ from the Titan Sinkhole and whatever oddities it contains.

* * *

 **This has to be the most flimsy excuse plot I've ever used, but I'm unapologetic. I wanted to introduce the Titan Sinkhole, and so I did.**

* * *

 **Darklight of the 0 arcana** **:** Possibly. In some universe, somewhere, possibly.

 **Firehedgehog :** Actually not what I was going for, but that works too.


	24. The Third Generation 2

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **Okay, gearing up for Second Generation Replacement. However… the third generation characters there are going to require introduction, you've only seen half of them in "The Third Generation". I'm going to use all of the third generation here, but only focus on a few so you can have a grasp of at least a few of them. Trying to go into detail about all of them would be a nightmare to read. Consider this a bit of a prologue to Second Generation Replacement.**

 **So basically, if you don't like OCs, don't read this chapter, because that's all this is about. There is** _ **one**_ **character (two if you count Grima) who isn't original, but that's it.**

* * *

"Ylisstol is approximately two days march away." Elise mutters as she pokes at the map. "We'll get there by nightfall tomorrow if we do a hard march."

The three of them are huddled around a map, using what little light makes it through the hazy purple sky to read it. They make for an odd-looking group. Elise's ornate, red, albeit dented and scratched metal armor is a marked difference from Velox's tattered ninja outfit and Basit's furs.

"I can manage." Velox grunts.

"Me too." Basit agrees. "Can you? In all that armor?"

"I don't have a choice." Elise says firmly. "I'll make it, or I'll kill myself trying."

"Bad idea." Basit says immediately.

"It's a figure of speech Basit. I won't actually do that." Elise placates. "But we are on a tight deadline here. We need to make it to Ylisstol to meet up with Sami and the others. Otherwise we'll have to try and find them in the woods while on the run."

"Inanis won't be able to find them?" Velox questions.

"Yes, but she's only so accurate." Elise reminds him. She packs up the map, brushes her pepper-colored hair out of her face and slides her helmet on. "Everything is packed up?"

Velox nods. "Of course."

"Let's go then. Basit, get Inanis would you?"

"Sure."

The barbarian goes off to find their fourth member, and Elise squints up at the sky. The dark purple clouds cover most of it, but hints of sun occasionally make it through. Over the last few months the clouds have become more common, and are continuously increasing in size. Eventually Elise knows they're going to permanently obscure the sky.

Sighing, the girl picks up her silver axe and hefts it over her shoulder. Another long walk is ahead of her. She dearly misses her warhorse in times like these.

###

"Wait." Basit whispers. She holds out an arm to stop their small group. "I hear something."

Sometimes Elise doesn't believe that Basit doesn't have taguel or magical blood in her. The senses of the woodswoman are incredibly sharp.

"Multiple." Basit murmurs a moment later. Her brown eyes narrow for a moment and she turns her head to hear better. "Hooves. Mounted. Not too many. Squad."

"Surround them." Elise orders quietly. "Velox, around the back. Basit, you go left, I'll go right." She turns around to speak to the last member of their group. "Inanis, you walk straight at them, alright?"

"Understood." Inanis says in monotone. She draws her steel spear and shield off her back, and her marble-colored skin and dull green eyes are quickly hidden when her faceplate drops to hide her face. She would normally draw a throwing spear, but she used up all her ammo long ago.

They all split up and slowly encircle the group, being careful not to be seen. If one of the Risen spot one of them, the entire group will charge headlong at that person which will be a nightmare to deal with. Elise is thankful she manages to get into position without being seen. Her red armor, dull as it is now, is still quite noticeable in this dead forest of browns and purples.

She waits patiently for the tell-tale screeching of angered Risen. Inanis will walk up, get noticed, and that'll be the signal to the rest of them to charge in.

It doesn't take long. A piercing yell breaks the air, and the sound of hooves makes it clear the Risen have started moving. Elise charges through the trees to see them already surrounding Inanis and hacking away with lances and swords.

Not a strike has made it past Inanis's defence so far. Her large shield is pulled tight to her body, and she strikes out precisely with her spear whenever the opportunity presents itself to stab the throat of a horse and bring its rider crashing to the ground.

Velox arrives to Inanis's aid first. He's a ninja after all. He's the fastest of them. He has to be careful though, he has no shurikens to put to use, only his daggers, and he's the least durable of the four of them. He satisfies himself with executing whichever Risen is unfortunate enough to lose it's mount via Inanis.

Basit and Elise turn the tide of the battle more significantly. Basit barrels in and crushes one of the cavaliers without issue, and Elise effortlessly cuts through another.

The fight is a route with all four of them present. Elise and Basit destroy Risen with each strike, Inanis punishes those who attempt to ignore her, and Velox deals with any Risen who slips by his companions. They finish the fight quickly and, more importantly, without injury.

"Nothing." Velox says curtly. He's trying to hide it, but his frustration is evident. "They have no vulneraries, concoctions, or elixirs. No decent weapons, and no salvageable supplies."

"As expected." Elise says dismissively. "Let's keep moving."

"A second." Basit says. She kneels down, grabs one of the old lances, and snaps the metal head off. She does this to several of the lances. "Can use these. Attach them to my club. Better than stones."

"I guess there is something usable." Elise says appraisingly. "Your creativity never ceases to surprise me Basit."

"Mph…" Basit grunts. She doesn't think it's creative. It's just survival. "Let's go."

###

Velox places the greenish-blue stone in front of him and kneels down in front of it. He brings his hands together and places the tips of his fingers to his nose in prayer. He does this every night, sometimes more often than that. It's a ritual he's had for a long time, and it's calming... even though he no longer gets an answer.

"Lady Tiki." The boy murmurs. "Please lend your strength and guidance to me. Keep my companions safe from harm, and let them strike true to best this menace."

This continues for a long while. In the past, these prayers would be a lot less wordy, but since Grima's rise Velox has found a _lot_ more to pray for.

"Please give peace to the others, who hold the last of Ylisstol. Let Noam have reached there unharmed with our message…"

If that message didn't arrive, then this entire journey might be a waste. The others will have no idea of the plan, and it will be even more of a hassle to try and find them. Velox would rather not think of what Noam failing to arrive could mean for the boy, and how devastated Elise would be.

Velox ends his prayers with something more personal. "I hope you are well, Grandmother. I worry that you no longer respond, but I hope it is merely that you are preserving your strength. May we speak again the portal is to be opened."

The ninja opens his eyes and takes a long look at the dragonstone in front of him. There's no reaction, as has been usual for the last few months. Sighing, the boy picks up his keepsake and puts it back in his pocket.

Velox can't help but feel such a powerful item is wasted in his possession. He still thinks it would have been best that mother took it with her when she went off to battle. He knows it was a spare but he's unable to use it, there was no reason to leave it in his possession.

Elsewhere in the camp, Elise works on her armor. With a small hammer and a firm grip she fixes the dents in her breastplate. She's thankful there are yet to be any holes in her armor, else she'd have to replace the section entirely and that's something she wants to avoid at all costs.

The intricate designs that used to be part of her breastplate have long been obscured by constant dents and magical burns. She used to have an insignia proudly displayed on the front, but now there's only a few spots left where it's in any way distinguishable.

She envies the simplicity of Inanis's armor in a way. Even after being repaired more times than Elise's armor, it hasn't changed all that much. It was plain to begin with, so there's nothing to lose.

Speaking of Inanis's armor… "You're going to need a new helmet again, huh?"

"Yes." Inanis says flatly. "I will."

"I'll tell the others to keep a lookout when we come across more armor knights. We'll try not to break their helmets."

"Understood."

Elise figures that's as close to gratitude as she'll get from Inanis.

The last member of the group, Basit, is currently nowhere to be seen. She's attempting to hunt. Animals are rare nowadays, but some can still be found. Usually those will be birds, or creatures capable of digging to escape the Risen. Elise wouldn't mind a robin or some small bird to eat tonight. It would be a nice change from the rations they've been having so far.

It's a miracle that Basit is able to hunt with nothing more than some sharpened sticks. She makes woodens javelins that, while not too useful against armored opponents, are more than capable of spearing a bird or a rabbit if thrown precisely.

Honestly if it weren't for Basit's incredible survival skills, this group would have been in trouble a long time ago. She can make fire out of seemingly nothing, can improvise weapons, knows what's edible and what's not, and what plants can be used for disinfectant and other things. Elise totally ignored the patch of blackleaf, thinking it to be useless, but Basit knew it could be useful. It's actually an effective antidote for several mild poisons and venoms, and fairly healthy to eat (even if it does taste _awful_ , Elise hasn't had something more bitter in her entire life).

There's also the fact that Basit can make splints, wooden backpacks (like they're using right now, the old ones broke long ago), clothes out of fur, and a number of other things makes her absolutely invaluable.

Elise regrets once thinking Basit was a hindrance. A brutish girl who lived out in the woods, good only for smashing things, and who they brought with them only because she was the daughter of Velox's mother's friend, and (as much as they all didn't like it) Elise and Velox didn't feel well leaving a fellow orphan behind to die.

Oh, how their opinions have changed…

Out in the woods, at least several minutes away from her companions, Basit is having her own musings. She and her companions are on a journey to save another world. They'll jump to another dimension before Grima's rising, stop it, and everything will be good.

Well, that's not quite true. This world will still be dead. It can't be saved. At least, though, in this new world, she might be able to learn who her mother was. She was too young to remember when her mother failed to return from a battle, and her father did the same not long after her fourth birthday.

It was the best and worst day of her life when the old woodsman took her in. A third parent that would die before she was an adult, but one that would teach her enough to live on her own in the woods after his passing.

She wonders if she's failed them all, living in the woods like a hermit for most of her life. That's at least part of the reason she walked out of the woods when she noticed that everything had started dying. Her parents were heroes, or so she was told, and while she didn't know them very well it felt wrong to let their work go to waste.

…

Well, their work _is_ going to waste. This world is dying, and there's no way to save it. Maybe it's more accurate to say it's their legacy she's carrying on, though it might help if she had any idea who they were.

###

"That's a lot." Basit says with a frown. "Like… more 'lot' than we can deal with."

"Indeed." Velox grimaces. "However, the castle still had lights on. The others still hold out. Ylisstol has yet to fall."

"Right…" Elise mutters. "Getting to another entrance would be a problem though."

"Don't need to get there." Inanis says in monotone, surprising the rest of them. Inanis rarely contributes to a plan. "Ritual doesn't take place in the castle. Just a convenient spot to meet."

"She's right." Velox says quietly. "I have a thought: I can get to the castle on my own because I can move across the rooftops. I'll tell everyone to meet out the back wall, where Sami's mother broke it. We can move from there to the ruined temple."

"That would be asking them to give up Ylisstol." Elise says tersely.

"Ylisstol was always going to be given up." Velox states matter-of-factly. "We always needed to get to the ruined temple to open the portal. We must think pragmatically, as much as it may pain us."

"Right." Elise says with a deep breath. "And you're sure you can make it?"

"I have no choice." Velox says calmly. "If I do not deliver the message, who will?"

"Of course." Elise murmurs in resignation. She reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Best of luck Vel."

"Yes, and don't die." Basit says simply.

"You all forget." Velox says as he approaches the wall. He turns to face them with a smirk that's not quite hidden by his face wrappings. "I don't need luck. I'm a ninja."

Suddenly he drops down into a squat and then pushes off the ground in rapid succession. He leaps high into the air, enough to grab one of the arrow slits in the middle of the wall. He doesn't stop there, and instantly pulls himself higher while retaining momentum so he can do a short vertical wall run to reach the top of the wall.

In three seconds, Velox has done what would take others minutes at least. He's over the wall and out of sight before the rest of them have proper time to react.

"Showoff." Basit grunts. "Skilled showoff, but showoff."

"That's a ninja for you." Elise says with a grin. "C'mon, let's move. He's faster than us. We're going to be behind the others because we have to go around the city, so this is going to be a harsh jog, got it?"

"Yes." Basit nods.

"Understood." Inanis drones.

###

"And here I was thinking you all wouldn't make it." Sami says by way of greeting. Despite the immense pressure he must be under, the boy has a cocky grin on his face that almost appears like a sneer.

Soner cuts the reunion short. "Good, you're here, let's move. Bello has our route plotted already. We have no time to waste."

With that said, everyone gets underway. It warms Elise's heart to see the entire group back together. Sami, Soner, Bello, Ventiel, Seraph, Maesus, Dhyey, Aliud…

Noam. "Where's Noam?"

"I am here Milady." The boy says softly. He slows a bit so he's no longer blocked from view by Soner.

"Oh good." Elise breathes.

"What about your guards?" Basit asks curiously to the group. "They are not coming with us?"

A momentary silence falls over the group. Those that just came from the castle exchange looks, trying to prompt the others to speak. Sami breaks the quiet. "They… they decided they couldn't come. We couldn't all retreat at once or we'd get overwhelmed. They're keeping the Risen at bay for as long as they can, for our sake."

"Another sacrifice for us." Basit murmurs. Sami nods quietly.

"Well then, we can hardly fail now." Aliud says. He's clearly trying to sound confident, and with his natural charm it's almost believable. "They've put their hopes in us! It would be _rude_ of us to fail."

" _Well, that's one way to think of it._ " Elise thinks with a tired smile. " _Just a little longer, then we're out of this hellhole._ "

###

"You're kidding me, right?" Maesus breathes. "Is that a _giant_?"

"You're not seeing things unfortunately." Soner grimaces. "I wasn't sure if Grima could revive things that have been dead for so long, but apparently so."

"They can't. Thanatophages can only revive creatures that have nerves and some semblance of a functioning brain." Seraph mutters. "Either that giant isn't that old, or the body was preserved somehow."

"It would have had to be preserved for _centuries_! A living giant hasn't been seen in a long time!" Sami growls.

"The grimleal have been around for a long time." Soner reminds the prince. "Who knows what they could've done in that time. For all we know, they've been capturing and preserving useful creatures for a long time."

"Shit."

"We can't go around either." Elise notes. "It's standing at the entrance to the temple. We need to take it down."

"With all of us, that shouldn't be an issue." Aliud says confidently. "Thirteen against one? Even if they're a giant, that's heavily in our favor!"

"There are normal Risen too." Bello murmurs. "Hmm… Dhyey?"

"Yes?"

"How do you feel about dueling a giant?"

The boy's brown eyes narrow as he analyzes the giant. "Will you be able to keep everything else away from me?"

"We can do better. We can rescue the giant _to_ you." Bello says. "Right Maesus?"

"Yeah… should be doable." The monk mutters. He pulls out his rescue staff. "Whatever."

"Right then." The white-haired girl turns to the rest of the group. "Inanis, Elise, Soner, you three are our front line. Basit, I'm trusting you to make sure that giant doesn't get bored with Dhyey and go after the rest of us. If it does, you need to alert everyone and help Dhyey in keeping it at bay."

"Alright."

"Sami, Ventiel, left flank, Velox, Aliud, right flank." Bello orders. "Noam, Seraph, Maesus, you're the backline with me. Everyone understand?"

There's a unanimous murmur of agreement. Everyone gets into position while giving Dhyey and Maesus a wide berth.

"Alright Maesus, whenever you're ready." Bello says. "Rescue it and and get out. Dhyey, you need to jump in _immediately_."

"Yeah yeah…"

"Got it."

Maesus raises his staff, takes a deep breath, and aims at the Risen giant. Green magic swirls around the staff, the monk grimaces from the strain, but the spell takes. The giant vanishes and swirl of green light from where it was before, and now towers over the monk and the duelist. Being Risen, it doesn't flinch at the sudden change in location, and instead brings its fist down at the two boys.

While the monk flees, Dhyey charges in. He ducks under the punch while pulling out his killing edge and slashes the back of the Risen's wrist. Purple smoke leaks from the wound, and the Risen roars while pulling back its hand.

While Dhyey deals with the giant, everyone else rushes towards the temple. Seraph wastes no time slinging flux at their foes and easily gets a kill with every attack. Soner, when he gets into melee, displays a similar level of strength. The rest of the group bases their fighting around those two, and lets their most powerful members pave the way for victory.

Dhyey also handily deals with giant on his own. Apparently his absurd dueling skills extend to _any_ opponent, regardless of size. He cuts the legs of the giant to pieces, and when it falls over he easily slits its giant throat.

Once he does though, and glances into the forest to look for any foes that might have snuck by his friends… and he doesn't like what he sees. Nothing snuck by his companions, but there is a large army advancing on their position.

"Everyone! We have more company!" He barks as he makes his way to the temple. "We need to get the ritual going, _now_!"

"Shoot, uh, Velox?" Bello shouts.

"On it. Protect me!" The ninja yells. Elise and Basit fall in around him, and help pave a way to the broken altar. Everyone quickly crowds in around the boy to form a defensive wall, and all their backliners stand around him. There's no way they'll be able to reposition after that army descends on them, so they need to be right next to the portal when it opens.

Sami hands off the gems Azure and Vert, which are mostly depowered from the half-baked ritual used to partially power up Falchion. All of their remaining energy is going to be needed to open this portal. Velox pulls out his dragonstone, sets it in front of him beside the two gems, and starts the ritual.

The army of Risen start pouring into the ruined temple, and their structured fight devolves into a frantic brawl. Inanis is the bulwark upon which the tide of undead breaks, and Seraph pulls out elfire to massacre swaths of the monsters at once. Everyone else concerns themselves with the flanks, trusting those two to hold the majority of the Risen at bay.

"Grandmother, Lady Tiki, hear our plea. The time has come. Please, grant us your power, and take that which remains in the gems before me. Open us a portal to a similar realm in a time before ours, so that we may warn others of the threat of Grima, and prevent the atrocity inflicted on this world from behalling theirs." Velox murmurs. It's an entirely improvised prayer as usual, but the contents of the prayer matter less than the convictions with which one delivers it. Also, Velox doesn't figure his grandmother to be that picky about exact words, especially when the plea comes from her own grandson.

The gems, depleted as they are of power, start to give off a faint glow. Blue wisps of energy start to form in front of him, pooling into a small circle with crystals forming on the side. A voice familiar to Velox, but unfamiliar to everyone else, fills the room around them.

"Grandson, I hear your call." The voice says. "I grant to you the last of my strength, in hopes that you will find a better world to live in. The gems will break, their power used up, you will go there with only what you have on hand. The future of this other world I entrust to you."

"Who is that?" Maesus whispers.

"Lady Tiki." Bellos shushes back.

"Children, and Inanis…" Tiki continues, sounding truly pained. "There is an issue. This portal, once opened, I cannot close on my own. My power will be spent, and my life almost at an end. I require the assistance of one of you to destroy the portal once the others are through. I was expecting more _time_ , but we do not have that luxury."

A quiet horror spreads over the group. One of them will be lost, and there is no avoiding it. All through this nightmare they've yet to lose one of their group, and now they are _forced_ to at the final step. A heroic sacrifice it might be, but a sacrifice nonetheless.

There's no time to think though. The portal is opening, the Risen are growing more desperate, they're soon to get overrun. Soner, being the eldest of the group, steels himself for what he-

"I will do it." Inanis announces, sounding as monotone as ever.

"Wha-?" Soner mentally backpedals.

"I am a golem. My purpose, to protect Vert until it is no longer feasible and aid those worthy of its power, is complete. Vert will be shattered upon the completion of this ritual." Inanis says flatly. "Death, to me, is nothing."

The others can't really argue with that. Still, it's a sobering thought.

Lady Tiki breaks the silence. "Then be prepared. The portal will open in a moment. Children… good luck to all of you. Velox."

"Yes?"

"I love you dear."

Velox swallows thickly. "Love you too Grandma…"

The portal snaps to full size with crystals adorning the outside of it. The Risen screech, sensing their failure at hand.

"Go! Go! Go!" Soner shouts, breaking off combat. "Everyone through, now! Move!"

The children rush through the portal without further prompting. Noam, Maesus, Bello, Ventiel and her pegasus, Sami, Dhyey, Seraph, Aliud, Elise, and Basit all dive through. Soner grabs a numb Velox, shoves the boy's dragonstone into his hand, and pushes the ninja through the portal.

Soner turns for a moment to meet Inanis's gaze. For once in her entire existence, the golem can be said to not be expressionless. Her brow is furrowed in seriousness as she stomps towards the portal. Soner gives her a quick nod, a whispered "thank you" and vanishes into the blue circle.

Not a moment later Inanis brings down her lance on the portal's crystal border. It shatters like glass, and the Risen roar in indignation.

"Well done…" Tiki murmurs. Her voice fades, and Inanis knows the goddess has passed.

The golem is quickly overwhelmed by every Risen in the room turning on her. Her spear is ripped from her hands, and her armor torn apart by dozens of weapons directed at her at once. She keeps struggling, but her purpose is fulfilled. Any action on her part is symbolic at best.

Eventually, a hammer comes down on the golem's head, and puts a swift end to her. The world goes quiet, the wind dies, and somewhere in the distance Grima lets out a roar of victory before curling up in the ruins of the Ylissian palace, and entering a deep, permanent slumber…

* * *

 **So, there was a lot of new characters in this one. Characters which, mind you, won't be popping up _too_ soon considering they're the future children of the next story.**

 **Hope this was interesting. There's a lot more I want to show with these characters, but that'll have to wait until they show up in Second Generation Replacement.**


	25. Self Insert

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening.**

 **Hmm… what today? My usual romance-oriented shtick? Do I start Second Generation Replacement** _ **now**_ **? No, no, one last chapter before I start that (and that** _ **will**_ **be the next chapter).**

 **So what should it be? I have so many things on the list to choose from… but there's one in particular I've always wanted to try. I've steered away from it in the past because it's incredibly overdone and I have nothing new to bring to the table for it, but I've always wanted to do one of those 'self-insert' stories. So that's what this chapter will be.**

 **Now, strictly speaking this was based off V-oppa's suggestion for "Self-insert Robin", but I'm not putting my avatar in place of Robin. I'm just throwing myself in there. Here we go…**

* * *

I suppose these types of stories usually start off with how you got to wherever you are, right? Usually "I fell asleep while playing the game and woke up _in_ the game!" or something close to that. The standard isekai plot.

I wish I know how I got here so I could tell you though. I wasn't playing the game at the time if that's what you're wondering. I haven't played the game in a few years at this point, though I know it very well from my numerous former playthroughs and constant wiki dives for information for my fanfictions.

No, I just don't know how I got here. My memory isn't providing that to me. I can remember waking up in the morning, but I don't know at what exact point during the day I got teleported to this random forest in the middle of nowhere and suddenly gained an axe, shitty fur clothes, and a random bottle on my hip. Probably a vulnerary.

Yes, by the way, I said a forest not a field. A rather chilly forest at that. I am _not_ a fan of forests, or really anything to do with the outdoors for that matter.

I should also note at this time that, surprisingly, I'm rather calm. Confused, yes, but calm. I know this isn't a dream: I can't recognize when I'm dreaming, but I always can tell when I'm awake. Dreams and wakefulness feel very different.

"So..." I mutter to myself, staring at the sky. "This begs the questions: where am I, and _why_ am I here? I was at home earlier today (assuming today _is_ the same day) and there's no way I would have arbitrarily decided to dress up in really old clothes and wander out into a forest. "Is this a hallucination?" I ask myself. It's quite possible, though I don't know what could have induced it. I don't take drugs of any sort, I don't drink, I don't have any notable medical conditions... hmm... "am I in a coma?"

Well if this is a coma, my brain has a very odd way of keeping itself entertained. Are you usually this lucid in a coma?

"Well, I'm not going to figure anything out by sitting here I suppose." I tell myself. If this _is_ a coma, then I should start seeing strange things at _some_ point. I push myself off the ground... and instantly notice something wrong. My arm is muscular right now, and it _shouldn't_ be. I'm not a strong person, I despise physical activity for the most part, so why is my body muscled all of a sudden?

Just another strange thing to keep in mind I suppose. I need to find a mirror... _after_ I find civilization. Survival first, figure things out later. Figuring things out doesn't matter if you're dead.

I mean, assuming I _can_ die. If this is a coma, death probably won't be a thing. That's not something I plan on testing though.

Okay, so... the sun is to my left, slightly off-peak. That means it's either just before noon, or just after noon. Judging by the pine trees and such around me, I'm in Ferox, so I want to be going south. Acting under the assumption that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west here like it does on Earth.

Incidentally, I'm assuming this is the world of Fire Emblem Awakening based purely on the way I'm dressed, because I'm dressed exactly like your generic barbarian.

So, I want to be heading south, which is towards Ylisse or Plegia. If I hit Plegia first, then I need to go east. The problem is that I have to wait for the sun to move to know it's it's currently rising or setting, and that means I currently have no way of knowing which direction is which.

Hmm... well sitting around is going to be worse than moving, even if I'm moving in the wrong direction. The more I think, the more I'm likely to process what's going on and give myself a panic attack. So I'm going to assume the sun is currently setting (meaning that way is west) and walk to what I assume is south-east. That way I'm all but guaranteed to hit Ylisse.

Let's get walking...

###

It's very quiet. I expected a forest to be teeming with life, even if it's a bit chilly it's not like there's snow on the ground, so I doubt things are in hibernation. I've heard a few birds here an there, but even they are few and far between. I've seen no bugs, no other animals, no people... it's eerie.

No visible bugs is fine with me, I absolutely hate them, but I'm not so foolish as to not think it strange. There are birds present, so there has to be _some_ bugs, but by all means I should be seeing bugs then. They're not nearly as cautious by nature as animals are. Then again, I'm no ecosystem expert. Maybe the bottom of the food chain here is fish and not bugs and I'm overthinking this.

I'm pondering this mostly because I've found a stream. Now, if there really is something wrong with the ecosystem here, I don't want to be taking a drink because that might be the root of the issue. On the other hand... I'm thirsty. I can't just _not_ drink. I have a waterskin that has some water, so I can use what's there for now, but if I don't fill it up again I'm just going to be repeating this problem in a few hours time.

Hmm... I'll use my waterskin for now. If I can afford to wait and look for more information then I should. If I don't come to some conclusion by nightfall, I'll have to chance the stream water though. Heck, even if there _is_ something wrong I'll have to chance the stream water. I don't have another source at the moment.

This is not how I imagined my first day in another world going. I didn't imagine I'd be worrying about water quality and a lack of bugs in a forest. I don't know the effects of Risen infecting an area though, it might be different from the game, and there's no saying how far along the plot line is already.

Just keep walking for now. I should find _something_ if I keep following this stream. Settlements are built around streams and rivers after all. I can worry about heading south-east _after_ I find a village and get supplies.

I mean, I know I just said that, but I also just entered a clearing and can see ahead of me, and there's this strange (and very large) temple up ahead. It's blue and white, so I'm guessing it's a temple to Naga. Either that or there's some ocean god I don't know about. Also... the stream travels _through_ the temple, so that might be a good place to go for answers about potential water quality issues.

I've also noticed something else. It's been at least three or four hours. Apparently my new muscled body also gives me a decent bit of endurance. I suppose that's probably a good thing... but I hate having muscles in the first place. I know that sounds like a strange thing to say, but I really do dislike the feeling of muscles. I feel too large, it's annoying to have my biceps rub against my forearms if I ever pull them close to my body, and my skin just feels a bit tighter which is _not_ a comfortable feeling. If anything, I feel _more_ vulnerable with this new body than my normal, weaker one.

That could be just because I've never been this muscled before, so it feels stranger than it should, but even in my normal body when I used to go to the gym I hated how I could start to feel muscles under my skin rather than bone or what little fat I had. It's contradictory, but being strong makes me feel more at risk to injury than I was before.

Perhaps that's not well-articulated and it doesn't make sense to you. There's not much I can do about that unfortunately. Sometimes your own thoughts just don't have a good way to be explained.

In the time it's taken me to ponder that over, I've arrived at entrance to the temple. It looks to be old. The grass around it is overgrown and it's covered in moss, but it doesn't seem to be falling apart yet. It can't be _that_ old yet.

The doors are ajar, to I step right in. My footsteps make barely a sound on the stone floor thanks to my boots being some sort of thick hide rather than metal or something totally solid. Wind pushes through the building, creating a haunting drone as it blows through the large corridors. There are paths of water running along either side of the walkway in their own special trenches, and I spy a mark of Naga carved upon some of the columns.

Well, at least I know this is a temple of Naga for sure. I have to wonder what's here now... if anything at all. Let's be honest though: a large empty temple out in the middle of nowhere in a game like Fire Emblem just screams "paralogue"! I could be wrong of course, this world doesn't operate on game logic, but I know Morgan's recruitment chapter takes place in a temple like this.

That's why I'm now walking with my axe in hand. " _Acting under the assumption that this is the place you find Morgan, maybe I've gotten here before they did. Then again, I haven't explored the whole temple yet._ "

I have to be on high alert for Risen, because the Risen in Morgan's chapter are probably way stronger than me. I'm an unpromoted class.

I peer around a corner and find confirmation of my suspicions. This is the exact room Morgan's paralogue takes place in... almost. In Morgan's paralogue there were raised platforms on the water making a path, but here all the raised segments of the floor are in a square at the center of the body of water.

There's also a small form lying down in the middle of that square, with a large cloak covering them. Morgan no doubt.

I don't see Risen still, so that's good, but I doubt I have long before they show up. If I'm remembering the paralogue correctly Morgan will wake up and only a few minutes later the Risen will be upon them. I need to get Morgan and get them out quickly, but while I might be able to swim I won't be able to carry them through the water with me, and there's no guarantee I'll be able to wake them up.

These raised portions of the floor aren't supposed to be in a square though. Maybe they can be manipulated somehow? I start looking around the area for some indication of how I'd move them. I hope it isn't magic, because I don't know how to do magic.

Eventually I find what I'm looking for: a set of large wheels on a floor in a six-by-six grid overlooking the area where Morgan is. Judging by the scuff marks on the floor, I guess these need to be pushed manually. I'm guessing by the size of the room Morgan is and the relative size of the platforms that the middle four platforms are up, so if I raise platforms (1,1), (1,2), (1,3), and (2,3) I should be able to make a bridge over to Morgan's four platform ((3,3),(3,4),(4,3), and (4,4) respectively).

"Why the hell would a temple have this weird room anyways?" I mutter and I grab the handles of one of the massive wheels. "They had too much money on their hands I guess."

I put my new strength to use and start pushing the wheels I need it. This is probably a multi-man job, because doing it on my own is slow and exhausting work. Morgan is asleep through the whole thing, because they don't react at all to the tons of water being displaced as I raise and lower these sections of the floor.

"Last one." I mutter to myself, and plant my sore hands on the wheel. I count the rotations as I slowly push the wheel. "One... two... three... four... five..."

Once I get to forty rotations the section is fully extended up the level of Morgan's, and I rush down to where I was before and make my way across the bridge I've created. I glance at the water around me, noticing how quickly it's settled down. I also notice how these raisable segments actually have space going through the center of them to allow water to pass _under_ them even when raised, and how there are grooves on the walking surface to quickly drain the water after the segment is raised. This was a very well-thought-out operation.

Also, as I'm peering over the side, I catch a look at my reflection, and it stops me in my tracks. I kneel on the stone and lean over the side to get a better look.

I'm... blonde? My face is also _way_ different. I have a straight jaw, large nose, sharp brow ridge, and my skin is quite peachy compared to my usual pasty paleness. My eyes are also hazel rather than blue now, and my hair is short.

My body didn't change, I just got an entirely _new_ body. Well fuck you too to whoever did this to me.

I shake off my anger and focus. Morgan first, rage at the heavens second. I jog over to where they're lying and kneel down next to them. White hair, so nothing out of the ordinary there. Gender... I actually have no idea. The coat obscures their body, and they're pretty androgynous otherwise. I'll have to ask them when they wake up.

I slip my hands underneath them and lift them into a bridal carry, taking special care to support the neck and head. You can seriously hurt someone if they're unconscious and you carry them wrong. If their head isn't supported, its weight can hurt their next and spine because they aren't holding it up like they usually would.

Just as I'm about to leave another thought hits me. Usually you get a Naga's Tear here, right? Where is it? I don't have time to search though, so... augh, I'll just have to leave it. It's not plot-vital anyways. I'm not going to go searching around this old temple when Risen could show up at any moment.

The last thing I do here is fill up my waterskin. I didn't see anything wrong with the water, so it must just be my paranoia. I don't regret waiting though, it was better to wait and search for information than to be uncritical.

I carry Morgan out of the temple, while still glancing around constantly for signs of Risen. The forest is still eerily quiet, so I make an effort to keep my own noise level down too, but it's hard to manage that while carrying another person.

At this point the sun is dropping dangerously low in the sky. I wager I have only a few hours left, and I don't know how to start a fire. I have zero survival skills. Morgan has an elfire tome on them, but I think I'm more likely to blow us up than start a campfire with it if I try and use it. Either that or It'll just end up doing nothing.

I'm just going to hope Morgan wakes up soon, because they probably know survival better than I do.

###

Mogan doesn't wake up before the sun starts to set. That's very bad news. Like I said, I don't know how to start a fire. I also only have a small amount of food in my pockets which will only make one meal. I really want it… but Morgan probably needs it more than I do. I'm a healthy adult, and Morgan is a (probably) underfed kid. I can probably live longer on no food than they can.

I eye their warm cloak enviously. The furs I'm wearing aren't useless, they're actually quite effective, but Morgan looks very comfy in that cloak.

If I can't make a fire, I need at least to find a place that's out of the wind. I could fell some trees with my axe I guess, but I'm not sure how effective that would be in making a wind barrier and honestly the amount of effort that would take probably isn't worth it when we're low on food.

So instead I take the first boulder I can find, chop off a bunch of low-hanging branches in the area to function as a make-shift bed, and set Morgan down on it. It's better than just the ground, and if it rains their back won't get soaked. I do the same for myself afterwards, though I'm cut slightly short by the sun falling and the sky getting too dark to see anything.

This bed of twigs will have to do. My extremely limited knowledge of survival coming from watching survival shows is coming in handy… to an extent anyways. Going to sleep in the cold is not comfortable though. The furs only help so much with that. Beside me I can feel Morgan shivering too. That's bad. I can at least manage my own heat to an extent, but being asleep or unconscious Morgan can do no such thing.

" _I'm probably going to regret this if they wake up before me_." I think with a frown. It'll stop them from freezing though, so I'll do it. I roll over so I'm right next to Morgan, and carefully slip one of my arms underneath their body, and pull them tightly against my own. The warmest parts of any person's body are their armpits (well actually it's their groin, but that's not being used for obvious reasons), so I take their arms, cross them, and make sure to tuck their hands in their own armpits for warmth. I pull their hood down as far as it will go on their head, and make sure their face is buried in the furs I'm wearing. Now the only thing really at risk is their toes… and there's not much I can do about that unfortunately. I move some of the extra small branches to cover our lower halves and tangle our legs together to maximize heat, but that's about all I can do.

While during the day the temperature was chilly, at night it's easily below freezing. I fall asleep hoping I've done enough to prevent Morgan from losing some digits. Maybe I should never have taken them from that temple...

###

Morgan _does_ wake up before me. I know this because _I_ wake up them staring at me. I'm not good at reading people, and I think they're intentionally keeping their expression neutral, so I have no idea what they're thinking.

They haven't struggled away from me or stabbed me in my sleep though, so that's a plus I guess.

"Morning." I grunt. I ruffle their hair and release them from my grasp. "If you can make fires, next time we can just do that instead of cuddling. Didn't want you to freeze."

"Oh." Morgan blinks. "You don't know how to make a fire?"

"Nope." I admit. "I'm fully expecting that you're going to be better at this whole 'survival' thing than me."

"Huh. Okay. That's not what I expected you to say."

"What did you expect?"

"'Muhahah! You're mine now girl.'" Morgan says with a comically bad growling voice. "'Take off your coat'... or something like that."

Female Morgan. That means male Robin. Noted. "I suppose the brigand clothes give off that impression, don't they?"

"Yeah."

"Bad experiences?"

"I mean… maybe? I don't remember."

Amnesia, right. "Well, you don't have to worry about that. I'm on your side here."

"And what side do you think that is?"

"Finding your father and the Shepherds." I say simply. I'm not going to give _all_ the details of me knowing how this world works and what will happen, but I'm not going to hide that I know quite a bit.

"Huh…" Morgan eyes me curiously. "Okay then. Thanks…?"

"Nathan." That's not my name, but this feels so far removed from my normal life that I want to separate it with a different name. I'm not putting this being-in-a-coma thing off the table yet. "Hello Morgan."

"Yeah, hi. So uh… as much as I like being warm, I'm also starving, so…?"

"Ah." Either that's a polite way of telling me to let go, or she's actually just hungry and doesn't mind my hug-of-warmth. "Well, I have a bit of jerky…"

"Gimme!"

"But that's _all_ we have." I warn. I release the girl from my grasp and dig out the meat from my pocket. Morgan, who had been reaching out to grab it, pauses. "I'm more than willing to give it to you, you probably need it, but you might want to ration it out."

"What about you?"

"I'll manage until we get to some other food… hopefully." I say. Morgan cautiously accepts the jerky, though she doesn't take a bite out of it quite yet. "I've been following the river, hoping to find a village to purchase more food. Once that's done, I planned to go south-east towards Ylisse."

"Where can I find my father though?"

"Ylisse most likely, if he's not out at war." I offer. "My goal is much the same as yours. I'm trying to find the Shepherds."

"Huh." Morgan blinks. "What are the odds of that?"

"Extremely unlikely." I admit. "Anyways… are you going to eat that jerky?"

Morgan stares long and hard at the jerky in her hand. She then breaks it in half, and hands half to me. "I have another question."

"Sure."

"Did you find me out here in the forest?"

"No actually, I found you in a temple surrounded by a pool of water." I say truthfully. "Risen were incoming though, so I carried you out."

"I see…" Morgan says though a mouthful of food. She swallows. "Okay, so, you help me I help you? Is that the deal?"

"Honestly it will be more you helping me than the other way around." I admit sheepishly. "Like I said, my survival skills are nonexistent. I really am hoping you know more about surviving in the wild than I do."

"So that was your plan! Find an amnesiac girl, save her life to make her indebted to you so she'll keep you alive!" Morgan says while pointing a finger at me. "Clever…"

"If you say so." I say with a roll of my eyes. "You have no proof I'm telling the truth. For all you know I'm lying, and you woke up the way you did because I'm a creepy molester."

"Maybe." Morgan shrugs. "But, I mean, come on. If you were, you'd never admit it. Also, I was joking you know?"

"As was I." I reply. "Mostly anyways. I _am_ relying on you for my survival. I wasn't kidding about being incompetent."

"Right… well, I think we can manage." Morgan muses. "I know a thing or two."

"Can you start a fire?"

"Yes."

"Thank Naga, we're saved!" I say dramatically. "But seriously, that's good, because I've never done so without a flint and steel." Well, a lighter actually, but I'm fairly sure those don't exist here.

###

Morgan knows how to hunt. That is so incredibly useful I don't know how to express it. We've actually come across no other villages in two days of travel, so it's been through Morgan hunting with her elfire tome that we've been getting food. In her words: "it's not an efficient use of this tome, but it's all we can do at the moment."

Most of her kills have been birds. She blows them out of the sky with a controlled explosion which stuns them, and then finishes them off with her sword. The birds are small, not even a full meal, but it keeps us alive at the very least. Hungry, but alive.

We're still following the river currently. It's going straight east, which isn't terrible, but it means we aren't getting any further south yet. We just need to find _one_ village for directions and supplies so we can start making some real progress, but so far no luck.

I feel bad that I haven't been nearly as useful as Morgan. I smash off branches to use for our nightly fires with my axe, and sometimes I carry Morgan around because she doesn't have my endurance, but other than that I'm doing very little.

Conversation between us is limited. Morgan has little to offer on account of her amnesia, and I don't know a whole lot about this world beyond broad plot details. We play various little games like eye-spy or that game where you have to say a word that starts with the last letter of the other person's word, but a lot of time is also spent in silent walking.

When we set up camp though, there's one other game we can play. We clear out a path of dirt, draw a board, and play chess. We use different-sized sticks for the different pieces. Morgan always wins, but it's more entertaining than just sitting around.

"Nathan."

"Yeah?"

"How old are you?"

I purse my lips. I have no idea how old this body is. I'll just use my actual age. "Twenty-one."

"Huh."

"What?"

"I thought you were older than that. You _look_ older."

"Well, how old are you then?"

"I think I'm… eighteen?"

I blink in surprise. "Really?"

"What? Why do you sound so surprised."

"You look younger." I say bluntly. It's true, she looks like she's just _barely_ started puberty. Also, using my knowledge of the game, I know Morgan is likely the younger sibling of _some_ other of the future children, which means the future children are older than I thought they were. I always expected them to be about sixteen, but assuming Morgan is about two years younger than most of them then they're probably about twenty.

Their art from the game really doesn't do them justice I suppose. Roughly how old are the first generation then? I assume they're a few years over the future children, so about twenty-four to twenty-six?

Alternatively, this world might just be totally different from what I'm expecting. Maybe the future children are almost exactly the same age as their parents, or Morgan's older sibling was born earlier than most of the other children so most of the future children are actually Morgan's age.

You know what, I'm putting too much thought into this. It really doesn't matter. I'm curious though. Miscellaneous knowledge like this interests me as a fan of the game. Also… that's just a lot older than I assumed. I always thought Morgan was _twelve_ , not eighteen.

"I knooow…" Morgan sighs. "Weird huh? Why don't people all start to look older at the same time? Why does it have to be different for everyone? Why couldn't I be one of the early ones…?"

"Look on the bright side. You look like a kid, so you can get away with pranks for longer than most." I offer.

"Oh…" The girl's eyes light up. "Oh man, you're totally right!"

"Just choose your targets carefully. Anyone who actually knows you won't be fooled." I warn.

"Ooh, okay… I should keep my age a secret from now on…" Morgan murmurs.

" _Honestly, I was going to suggest that anyways._ " I think to myself. " _An adult that looks like a child is bound to grab the attention of some creep. Maybe let's not bring that up though, no sense in bringing down the mood._ _Besides, considering her skills, I bet Morgan could make short work of any unwanted attention…_ "

"Hey, Nathan?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know who I am…?"

"You're Morgan."

"Yeah, but you seemed to recognize me even before I told you who I was or that I had amnesia. You knew I was looking for my father before I mentioned it too."

"Well…" How much do I say? "I have some outside knowledge. I can tell you about the broad strokes of what happens in the world, and maybe some specific people, but that's it. I don't know your past except that you've hopped dimensions to be here."

"Oh." She blinks.

"Yeah, it's complicated." I shrug. "Really, this whole world is a bit complicated."

"Huh… okay then." Morgan says. Her brow is set in a serious expression. "I have a lot to learn I suppose."

"So do I…" I murmur.

###

"Oh thank God, a village." I sigh when I see the clearing ahead of us with some buildings visible. "It's about time."

"I'm staaaarved." Morgan moans. "We gotta buy a _ton_ of food."

"Speaking of buying… do you have any money?" I cough. "I have some silver, but I'm not familiar with _money_."

"What?"

"Yeah, uh, I'm not used to using gold and silver. How much is two silver?"

"That's barely anything. Maybe one night at a crappy inn?"

"Oh."

"Let's see…." Morgan mumbles as she searches through her coat. She pulls out a small purse. "I have this." She opens it. "Oh. Wow. That's… one, two, five, ten, twenty… a lot of gold."

"Ah." So she's rich, and I'm dirt poor. That makes enough sense I suppose. Robin probably had a lot of money, but there was no real use for it in the apocalyptic future, so Morgan just hung onto a lot of it. At least that's what I assume. "Well that's good. That's food and a bed, and hopefully some other supplies."

"You speak like I'm paying for you." Morgan scoffs. I don't realize she's joking immediately, so an expression of shock born from fear of abandonment crosses my face and she rushes to correct things. "I'm joking! I'm joking! Uh, sorry."

"Oh, right." I say, making sure to keep my voice even. I'm supposed to be the adult here, but I have no experience in keeping my calm. I'm only nominally in charge because I'm older than Morgan and because I actually have some idea of where we're going. By all means, Morgan _should_ be the one in charge here, because she's certainly smarter and more competent than me. I am _very_ aware that I'm going to be irrelevant once we find the Shepherds, and I don't want to be cast aside. "Let's go."

"Right!"

The village is very small. It's not a farming village, there are no fields (it must be too cold up here year-round to do any farming) but instead seems to focus on furs and fish. People stop and stare at us ( _glare_ at me actually) as we pass by we search for a tavern and a general store or a market. We stand out like a sore thumb, partially due to Morgan's cloak, but also because all the villagers have dark skin and me and Morgan don't.

"Hey, you." Some burly man, the village blacksmith by the look of it, stops us in the streets. He's glaring right at _me_. Morgan glances around us, and her eyes narrow slightly. I can see other people moving from the corner of my eye, so I'm guessing we've been surrounded. What a warm welcome… "You got a lot o' nerve comin' in here and thinkin' we would jus' ignore you."

I'm totally lost. "I do? I think you have me mistaken for someone else."

"We'll see about that." He looks down at Morgan. "Kid, what's your name?"

"Morgan." The tactician says. She draws herself up to her full height (which is fairly short). "What's going on here?"

"I'm askin' _you_ that." The man says softly. He's using the voice you'd expect a police officer to used with a scared kid. Firm, but gentle. That's… weird? Why? Why was he glaring at _me_ then? The man reaches out and puts a hand on Morgan's shoulder, and not-so-subtly shifts her away from my side. Morgan's mouth purses in thought, and then her eyes widen slightly. "Morgan, was it? Tell me truthfully, are you alright?"

"I mean, I'm hungry, and I've been sleeping on branches for the last few nights." Morgan says truthfully. "I also don't remember anything beyond the last two days… so… no, not really."

"I see." The man says slowly. The people around us not-so-subtly start to draw weapons. The blacksmith then points to me. "And him? What has he done to you?"

" _That is a_ _very_ _leading question_." I notice. " _What's going on here?_ "

"Kept me from getting killed, carried me around when I was exhausted, kept me company, stopped me from freaking out about the fact I'm an amnesiac who woke up in the middle of nowhere…" Morgan lists off slowly. It's only at this point I notice her hand has slipped into her cloak, and a moment later she pulls out her elfire tome. "So I'm going to have to ask you to back off and put away your weapons, or I'm going to start slinging fire."

" _Oh, is this a fight?_ " I think, and reach for my axe. " _Isn't this just a village? What's going on here?_ "

Morgan and the blacksmith seem to be having a staring contest of some sort. The man is squinting in suspicion while Morgan is giving him a firm, unwavering look.

"You're sure yer fine?" The man grunts.

"Yes."

"We've got a bunch o' people here. We can take him."

"I know. That's unnecessary."

" _Wait, are they talking about me?_ " I blink.

"He ain't a slaver? Kidnapper? You're fine?"

"Again, yes." Morgan says firmly. "He's my _friend_ , and we're much closer in age than we might look. I assure you, whatever you're thinking, it's not true."

The blacksmith stares for a moment longer, than steps back and says "alright boys, false alarm. I'll take it from here."

The men around us share looks, but listen to the blacksmith. They pull back their respective weapons and reluctantly depart back to whatever they were doing. I let go of my axe; reassured by Morgan also pocketing her elfire tome.

"Sorry for the rude greeting." The blacksmith says. He extends a hand towards me, which I cautiously shake. The last few lines between him and Morgan finally keyed me into what was going on. He thought I was a kidnapper, huh? I suppose that makes sense. That reminds me of what I was thinking before about Morgan hiding her age. I guess _I_ look like the creep, given my attire and what looks like a large age difference between us. "The villages around here have had trouble with kidnappings lately. Bandits, usually Plegian like yourself, have been either sneaking in or raiding villages and taking the younger members, usually our daughters. So when I saw a plegian man who looks like a brigand walkin' around with a young girl… well you can understand my alarm."

"So you surround us and ask leading questions." Morgan says evenly. "I'm all for taking action, don't get me wrong, but asking leading questions gets biased answers, and biased answers aren't the truth."

The blacksmith seems surprised at Morgan talking back to him. "Well, I can't expect someone who might have been kidnapped to be of the right mind, yeah? They could easily be pressured into _not_ saying anything, and probably won't be using their right mind anyways. I can't trust them to speak up on their own. They need prompting."

Morgan purses her lips. "Alright, fine. I don't totally agree, but that's a fair enough point."

"Can't fault you there." The blacksmith shrugs. "So, what brings you two here then?"

I step in here. "Food, shelter, supplies, directions. We've been out in the wild for a few days with no supplies, and we're trying to head for Ylisse. Erm… where exactly are we?"

"You're a hell of a way off, that's where you are." The man grunts. "You're at the west end of Ferox. Like, the _total_ west end. Gonna take you at least a month to get where you want to go."

"Ah." I grimace. "Okay…"

"I don't have no map I can give you, but supplies and whatnot we can certainly give if you got the coin for it." The man grunts. "An', by the look of it, maybe you two could use a proper backpack too? Only so much you can carry in that little coat o' yours."

"You'd be surprised…" Morgan mutters under her breath. "But yeah, we could use a pack or two. Also, a place to stay for the night would be great. Oh, and bedrolls would be fantastic. We could use those."

"If yer willing to wait for a few days, we can certainly provide." The man laughs. "For the night though, the tavern's got rooms for ya, and it's got some good food. They'll appreciate the extra business too. Ain't often we get travellers out here."

"Well, they'll get quite a bit of business tonight. We haven't eaten properly in days." I say. "Erm… if you don't mind pointing us in the right direction?"

A few minutes later the two of us step into the tavern. It's a humble place. Small and basic, with only eight tables that could probably fit the whole village if needed. This seems to be a small place. Seeing as it's not _quite_ dinner time yet, we've beat the rush, we order a full meal for each of us and dig in as soon as it's on the table in front of us. The meal is mostly meat and fish, but there are a few vegetables and some bread. Rather than booze, we both get water to drink.

We finish just as the rest of the town seems to be pouring in for their nightly round of drinks. While Morgan takes a moment in the water closet, I pay for a room, and we make our way up there. The girl pauses upon seeing the room, and a moment later I realize the problem.

"Nathan…"

"Yeah, I just realized. My bad. I'm used to hote- er, _tavern_ rooms having more than one bed." I sigh. "My siblings and I always slept in the same room when we went anywhere. Sorry. I'll go back down and-"

"What?" Morgan blinks. "I was just going to ask if you wanted the wall side or the inside, because it's not the biggest bed so one of us might fall off."

Oh, she doesn't mind. Didn't expect that. I won't complain, I'd hate sleeping alone at the moment to be honest, I've been steadily on the verge of a panic attack for the last several days and having Morgan has really helped with that. I expected her to take issue though.

"You have a 'I'm surprised' look on your face." Morgan notes. "Were you expecting me to complain?"

"Yes." I say bluntly. "Very much so, yes."

She raises an eyebrow. "Is it because I'm a girl? You were expecting me to be all bashful?"

"Yes to the first, no to the second. I was expecting you to complain about the lack of space and make a jab at my expense."

Morgan snorts. "I mean… I considered it, but that would be mean. You seem… and I don't want to sound mean… kinda emotionally fragile? And maybe not too socially aware? So I could poke fun at you, but at this point that would just be rude."

"Oh." I cringe.

"No, no, uh…" Morgan wrings her hands in annoyance. She's trying to find the words to explain this. "I don't mean that as an insult or anything! I'm kinda freaking out too you know? And you've been putting on a brave front for my sake… not very well mind you, but you've been trying. I could make a joke, but it would only make _me_ feel better, and honestly… I don't really want to sleep alone either. I could have woken up in that temple alone with Risen around me, I don't know where my father is, and I don't know _anyone_ else in the world right now because of my amnesia. You are literally the only person I know I can fully trust at the moment."

That's probably supposed to be reassuring, but it's not. The only person Morgan has is _me_ , and I'm totally incompetent and have no real idea what I'm doing.

Still though, I suppose I would prefer to have a well-meaning companion, even if they were incompetent, over no one at all. I'm also not going to argue with not sleeping by myself tonight.

"You can take the wall, I'm a still sleeper. I shouldn't fall off." I offer.

"Oh good, because I tend to roll in my sleep." Morgan mutter.

We shrug off our extra things and climb into the bed. It reminds me of sleeping next to my parents when I was young… except I suppose I'm the larger one here, and we're basically equals and there's not a parental relationship, and-

Okay, look, this metaphor is falling apart really quickly. I'm just going to move on.

I was expecting all this tension and awkwardness about sharing a bed, but Morgan really doesn't care. I suppose it's all in my head. _I'm_ more awkward about this than she is. I have all these expectations that other people are going to be super prudish and easily offended and all that, so it's honestly throwing me off that Morgan just _isn't_ any of those things.

"Nathan, you look like you're overthinking something." Morgan notes.

"I probably am." I admit.

"Stop." She suggests cheekily.

You know what? That sounds like a good idea. I'm worrying about things that don't matter. I should just sleep.

So I do. I flop back in the bed (listening to Morgan shift around beside me and murmur under her breath as she runs through plans for tomorrow). Sometimes she asks my opinion in a whisper, and I respond in a half-asleep mumble. I don't say much of use, and I don't think Morgan expects me to. I'm just a soundboard to bounce ideas off for as long as I'm awake.

I'm only awake for so long though. I fall asleep to Morgan muttering ideas under her breath.

###

"So we need all that?" I ask.

"Yep." Morgan nods. "Unless they have some lying around though, we're going to be waiting for them to _make_ this stuff, so we'll be here for a few days in the meantime."

"Right." I say. "Uh… what do we do in that time?"

"I dunno honestly. Maybe there's a task we could do?" Morgan shrugs. "It'd feel rude to just sit around you know?"

That's a fair point. "Well… they did mention something about slavers, right?"

"They did." Morgan's brow furrows. "But there's only two of us, remember? And you don't know how to fight."

"Ah, right." How stupid of me. Of course we can't do that. We're not the Shepherds. One elite soldier, Morgan, now matter how powerful, is probably not enough to take on a whole group of slavers…

Wait, slavers? Isn't Noire's whole paralogue about her running from slavers? Was Noire's paralogue near Morgan's? I know they both take place in Ferox. Weren't they on opposite sides of the country? Did the slavers come from here all the way to the other side, and that's why we're hearing about them here? I distinctly remember griffon riders in Noire's chapter too, we can't deal with that at present… but what if Noire needs help _now_? I don't know if she's arrived in this world yet, so finding the slavers might not result in us finding Noire.

"Is there _nothing_ we can do about the slavers?" I ask. "I don't mean confronting them _directly_. Just something to maybe rescue some slaves, or take out some of the slavers without hurting the slaves with a trap?"

"Hmm…" I can see the wheels in Morgan's head start turning. "Okay, _that_ we can possibly do. We need to find the slavers first though."

I wrack my brain for what I remember of Noire's paralogue. "Ruins maybe? Maybe they have a camp somewhere, but some ruins would certainly provide some nice cover and a pre-existing structure to work with."

Morgan considers it, and then nods. "Yeah… yeah that makes perfect sense actually."

"So maybe let's find some ruins around here." I pause. "Or just _ask_ if anyone knows any ruins nearby."

"Yeah, let's go with that first."

* * *

 **How about I stop here? Nathan is a difficult character to write from first person. He borrows some elements from me, but is very much a** _ **parody**_ **of my own mental image. I've attempted to use Nathan before in Merely Shepherds (where he** _ **is**_ **actually still from Earth. I was experimenting with making an SI type character/Isekai character** _ **not**_ **the main protagonist, and in fact just making him a minor character).**

 **Now, it's no secret I am** _ **not**_ **fond of Female Morgan most of the time. That's just because of her sadism though. Besides that, I actually don't mind her. I chose to have Nathan meet Morgan as a type of mimicry of how the usual meeting goes between Chrom and Robin and such.**

 **Also, this was a** _ **weird**_ **chapter to write. I'm not used to using OCs, especially not one that's based (very** _ **very**_ **roughly) on myself which makes him a bit… bland. The focus on the weird dynamic of having a twenty-something looking guy escorting around a girl who looks like a twelve-year-old is** _ **not**_ **what I expected to get into, but it arose very naturally from how I envision both characters… and the fact that a lot of my stories seem to tackle age dynamics and physical appearance as subjects for some reason.**

 **Yeah, uh, whatever. Next time: Second Generation Replacement.**


	26. Second Generation Replacement 1

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **Okay! Here we go. Another larger mini-series: Second Generation Replacement. This is gonna be a bit weird because I'm working with less characters overall, and not all the characters easily fit into the roles of their parents. The third generation is also a bit** _ **weird**_ **to try and integrate because they're all original, and my track record with original characters is hit-or-miss (and I'm worried people aren't interested in that third generation considering the total lack of interest in the second chapter dedicated to them).**

 **I hope that lack of interest was due to the chapter being released during exam/final project time of the year and not that people don't care. Also, uh, I'm introducing some new** _ **second**_ **generation characters to fill some voids. Some of these are actually characters I intend to include in Merely Shepherds when I remake it. Fingers crossed that this chapter goes over well.**

* * *

"Hark! My sword hand twitched with power upon seeing yonder figures sleeping on the hill. Beings of great power! But what to do? Are they friend or foe? Are we rescuers, or prey…?"

"Owain, just feed him the vulunary." Lucina sighs.

"Right, right."

Lucina doesn't totally discount what Owain says though. There is a very real chance these two are dangerous. Random people lying around in grimleal cloaks in the middle of Ylisse is _very_ unusual, and therefore possible dangerous.

"I'd advise you stand back Milady and Milord." Kjelle warns after the twin strangers have had vulunaries poured down their throats. "Milord is not unreasonable in suspecting some danger."

"I am aware, but I'll do no such thing." Lucina says firmly. "They are at our mercy, but more importantly they may be in need of help."

"As you wish Milady." Kjelle says reluctantly.

They two figures on the ground start to come to consciousness, and Lucina takes a deep breath. " _This will be fine. Just smile and be nice._ "

The boy speaks first. "Woah…you got a tattoo on your eye?"

"Erm…"

"No, I think it's a reflection." The girl insists. She tries to sit up, but immediately falls over due to how shaky her limbs are. "Or maybe we're drunk. I think we're drunk."

"Nah, it's _gotta_ be a tattoo." The boy insists. "Right?"

"Not exactly." Lucina coughs. She didn't exactly expect this. "It's the Mark of the Exalt."

"Pay these actors. They play fools almost as well as you Milord." Kjelle snorts under her breath.

"Pff, no one could ever be as great as Owain and his raging sword hand!" Owain brags. He pauses for a second, then adds. "Well, maybe Cynthia."

Lucina ignores the conversation happening behind her. "What are both of your names? Are you siblings?" She asks softly.

"Uh… well we're twins, right?" The boy asks hesitantly.

"I think so. You look familiar." The girl says. She purses her lips and squints at her supposed twin. "I dunno who I am, but you look like a… Morgan."

"Well you look like a Marc." The newly-named Morgan pronounces in return.

"You speak as if you do not remember. Are thou both, by chance, amnesiacs?" Owain butts in.

"I think 'thou' is singular Milord." Kjelle says dryly.

"Shush, I'm trying to look cool." Owain whispers at her through the corner of his mouth. "So, what say you; you slumbering mysteries?"

"Yeah, uh, I don't remember anything… you?" Morgan asks Marc.

"Nope." The girl shrugs. "But how rare is that? Twin amnesiacs. This has to be literally one in a billion."

"Yes, and drawing attention to that doesn't make you any less suspicious." Kjelle growls.

"But that's so cool!" Owain says enthusiastically; totally disregarding the bodyguard's concern.

"I know, right?" Morgan agrees. "How awesome is this!?"

Lucina doesn't comment on all this. If the 'coolness' of being twin amnesiacs keeps these two away from the confusion and panic that realizing you have no memories should bring on, Lucina will take it. If they're really amnesiacs, I want to get them somewhere safe before they have a breakdown.

" _Because_ ," She thinks with a grimace. " _Let's be real. If I woke up somewhere I don't recognize, don't know who I was, and have no idea what to do, I'd certainly panic_."

So while Owain keeps them entertained, Lucina herds the group towards Southtown. Kjelle quietly points out the iron sword Marc has and the elthunder tome Morgan has. "They're likely trained fighters Milady."

"Alright. Thank you for telling me Kjelle."

"You still insist on trusting them?"

"Trust is a strong word, but I am giving them the benefit of the doubt." Lucina murmurs. "By all means, keep up your guard, but do not antagonize them. We must be ready for the possibility they will betray us, but also for the possibility that they are telling the truth."

"Understood Milady."

###

"Duck!" Morgan barks. He snaps an elthunder shot where his sister's head was just a moment ago, which strikes the myrmidon that was just about to slash her. "Owain, take down that mage!"

"Radiant… Daaaawn!" Owain cries. He lunges at the mage with blade outstretched, and he runs the man through with little effort. "Ha! They were no match for the great Owain…"

"Focus Milord!" Kjelle says sternly. Her shield blocks the swing of an axe, and she effortlessly smashes in the head of the brigand who tried that. "This is no joke!"

"Right, right, sorry." He coughs.

"We only have so many vulunaries." Marc warns. She jumps up onto a market stall, kicks a brigand in the head, then slashes his throat as she leaps back down. "Be cautious everyone."

"Says the girl jumping around on market stalls." Morgan smirks.

"You're just jealous you're not a cool swordsman too." Marc says while sticking out her tongue.

"You little brats!" An unknown voice suddenly shouts. A bulky bandit stalks into the town square, noticeably limping. His eyes are fixed on the twin tacticians. "Never thought I'd see the day where _grimleal_ turn traitor! I've always wanted to stick it to you nutjobs though, I'll take on the lot of you, get my reward, and take you grimleal down a notch!"

"Well, he's rather confident." Marc says conversationally.

"One axeman against three swordsmen and a mage? I think he overestimates himself." Morgan agrees. "And I suppose Kjelle is here too."

The knight glowers at the tactician boy.

"Lucina, Owain, do you want to do the honors?" Marc asks. "Or should me and Morgan do it?"

"Please, allow us!" Owain cries. "Behold villain! You shall fall at the hands of Owain Dark, and the hero of Naga!"

"Who let you out of the crazy house?" The brigand sneers. "Come at me then boy, if you're so confident!"

"As you wish villain!" Owain wastes no time charging in. He ducks the man's first swipe, and slashes at his head. To his shock, the brigand _catches_ his blade with his other hand. The blade digs into the brigand's glove, but impacts against something hard. "You have a metal gauntlet under there, don't you?" Owain squeaks.

"Not as slow as you look, huh?" The man sneers. He suddenly wrenches the sword from Owain's hand, leaving the boy weaponless. "But not that strong apparently."

The man quickly pulls up his axe to block the sudden attack Lucina launches at his head. He grins widely at the girl. "You'll make a nice prize."

Lucina makes a face, slides Falchion free from where it's locked by the axe, and swipes low to force the brigand to back off or lose his legs. "Indeed I would, but I think you overestimate your own abilities."

Everyone else watches as Lucina duels the brigand. Despite being a barbarian, the man is clearly no pushover. Usually the weapon triangle would ensure an easy win for Lucina, but the barbarian is giving her a run for her money. The princess ducks and dodges several powerful swipes and the brigand makes use of the metal armor hidden underneath his furs to block strikes that would otherwise be lethal.

"This has gone on long enough!" Lucina shouts after one strike nearly takes off her arm. She tosses Falchion to the sky and leaps up after it. "Aether!"

The girl grabs her weapon by the hilt mid spin, and she whirls back to the ground in a rapid summersault. The brigand blocks with his axe, but she sheer force of the attack breaks his weapon's shaft and digs into his metal chestplate. The brigand is knocked to the ground, wheezing, with a few inches of sword in his chest.

"Yield." Lucina says calmly.

"I do." The man growls reluctantly.

###

"Dis ish so gud!" Morgan says through a mouthful of meat. He swallows. "I never thought bear meat would be so great!"

"Says you. This is disgusting." Marc grumbles. She takes another bite of her meat reluctantly. She prefers the berries they had alongside all these.

"I think it's quite tasty myself." Lucina shrugs.

"As do I!" Owain agrees. He aims a mocking smile at Kjelle. "Don't you agree Kjelle?"

"Erm… yes." The knight coughs to hide her grimace. "It is quite… healthy. Yes, very healthy, and for that reason one should eat it."

Marc doesn't miss how Kjelle _doesn't_ say she likes it. She suspects the knight isn't so fond of the food, but doesn't want to discourage others from having it.

"I'll take first watch." Lucina offers when she finishes her own food. "The rest of you can get some sleep. Kjelle, I'll wake you up for the next shift, and then you can wake Owain after that."

"Understood." The knight nods.

Everyone settles down to sleep. Marc and Morgan don't have bedrolls, but their coats are actually quite comfy to sleep in. They cuddle up together and quickly pass out.

"They're quite cute." Lucina chuckles as she gazes upon the two. "Aesir will like them I think."

"He's the Exalt; even if he didn't like them he'd pretend to anyways." Owain reminds his cousin. "Though yeah, I can totally see him liking these two."

"Surely you don't intend to introduce them to the Exalt." Kjelle says with warning in her voice. "Milady, we still don't know if they are being truthful about their amnesia. They could still be a threat."

"Yes, yes, I know." She sighs. "But we will give them the benefit of the doubt Kjelle. They would not dare attack Aesir with so many other people in the room anyways."

The knight purses her lips. "As you say Milady…"

###

"Nope, nope, nope." Morgan mutters as he backs away from the flaming forest. "Not cool. Very not cool. This isn't normal, is it?"

"Not at all." Lucina grimaces. "Gods above, what could have caused this?"

A giant portal suddenly appears in the sky with crystals protruding from the edge, an ethereal clock in the middle, and an iris superimposed over all of it. A figure falls out, dressed in blue, with blue hair, and with an eye mask on their face. They drop to the grass and roll to reduce the impact.

Several other figures tumble out after them. They have purple skin and also have masks, though their masks make them look like some demon, and the purple smoke that spews from their mouths immediately makes Lucina suspect dark magic.

"Morgan." Lucina says calmly. "Stay behind me, alright?"

"Okay." Morgan nods. He pulls out his elthunder. "I'm ready."

The masked figure turns around to face the creatures that fell behind them. Lucina blinks in shock at seeing his weapon.

"Is that Falchion?" She whispers to herself as she watches him engage the nearest creature. "Impossible…"

A bolt of electricity wizzes past her face as Morgan launches his spell. "Lucina! Help him!"

"R-Right!" No time to think, this is combat. Lucina lunges in to fight by the figure's side. Their twin swords flash in the firelight, and Morgan's elthunder adds more light to an already bright fight.

One of the monsters manages to sneak by the two swordfighters and charge at Morgan. The boy throws himself back to avoid the axe swung at his face and lands hard on the ground. Goosebumps prickle across his skin when the monster locks eyes with him, and speaks in a long, shuddering breath.

"Found… you..."

The creature's head is suddenly severed from its body by a lance. Kjelle stomps in front of the boy, shielding him from further attack. The fires make her armor shine, and reflect off her brown eyes when she glances back at him. "Get up Plegian. The fight isn't over yet."

Morgan shakes the awe from his system. "Right, right! Where's Owain and by sister?"

"Behold! The great Owain has arrived! My sword hand itches for battle! My blood rages at the promise of _justice_ being served!" The boy in question cries as he explodes onto the scene. Whereas the fight with the bandit wasn't his best showing, this fight certainly demonstrates his talents better. He weaves in between enemies, whirling and slashing in all directions with his sword. He severs arms, heads, and legs while sliding around all attacks directed at him. "Missiletainn tastes dark magic this day! Begone creatures of foul creation!"

Marc isn't nearly as flashy. She calmly marches behind the myrmidon and systematically destroys each Risen as she comes across it with precise, practiced cuts. She waves to her brother when she notices him taking cover behind Kjelle, and then goes back to killing things.

The group eventually cleans up the initial squad of these things, but the moans that start to fill the forest tell them all that there's certainly more.

"Beware." The masked figure warns. He sounds male judging by his voice. "The Risen do not feel exhaustion, they do not feel pain. Only removal or destruction of the head will see the end of them. You'll find no sleep tonight if you stay in the wild. Flee and fight! Warn your Exalt!"

With that said, the boy dashes off into the forest. He quickly disappears among the flames and trees.

"Well? You heard the man. Let's get out of here!" Marc barks. "Morgan! What's our formation?"

"Kjelle, at the front! Marc, you take the rear guard! Lucina, Owain, on the sides! I'm our only ranged and the frailest, so I'll stay in the middle!" He orders swiftly. "Don't get separated!"

The five of them push on to a clearing. A clearing, unfortunately, that they find overrun with Risen.

"Well, this is problematic." Marc mutters. "Okay, see that lava river on the other side? It's smaller just a bit upstream, we should be able to jump it. Morgan?"

"Use the trees to cover our movement." He instructs. "We'll get outnumbered if we move in the open and they all notice us."

"There's an abandoned fort in the middle of the clearing." Kjelle adds. "Perhaps that can be of some use?"

"Hmm… only if we end up bogged down in a big fight." Morgan mutters. "We'll end up in a defensible position, but surrounded with no way out."

"I see…"

So the group quietly sneaks their way through the forest, skirting around the view of all the Risen. It doesn't go quite as well as Morgan expected, mostly because he didn't count on the few Risen in the forest actually being able to call for help. Morgan didn't figure weird corpse monsters _could_ call for help. He was wrong.

"Okay, uh, shit. Maybe we do need that fort." Morgan grunts as he blasts another Risen. "Okay! Change of plans everyone! We're making for the fort!"

We end up rushing over the open grass to the fort. Kjelle smashes the lock and shoulders open the door while the rest of us fight off the Risen, and we all rush inside when the door opens, then slam the door shut and pile up debris against it to keep it from being knocked open like we did.

"Okay, okay… so they can call for help. Great, good, okay, nice to know. Won't make assumptions in the future." Morgan mutters rapidly to himself. "Marc, what am I not thinking of?"

"They're clearly reanimated by magic, so they might be under someone's control." Marc says instantly. "We don't know how far away that person might be, or how they relay orders. If they can do it through magic rather than speaking, the Risen don't have to see us for us to be exposed, just the controller. If they're a strong enough mage they might be able to scy on us."

"Right, right." Morgan breathes. "Anything else?"

"The Risen are pretty stupid. They're predictable and straightforward. We can still abuse that." Marc rattles off. "Also, stealth isn't worthless. It still took them a while to notice us. I don't think we're being scryed on _at the moment_ , but getting spotted by one Risen will bring everything in the area down on our heads."

"Okay…" The boy takes a long, deep breath, and then puts on a serious expression. "New plan-"

"Luci!" Owain shouts, interrupting them. He's been peering over the wall of the fort. "I see Sev and Brady!"

"Wha- What are they doing here?!" Lucina shouts. Everyone rushes up next to the myrmidon and looks out over the throng of Risen to see a girl with red hair and twintails and a sword alongside a blonde haired priest with a scar and a staff. The redhead is fighting off three Risen at once while the priest frantically keeps her alive. "Morgan! We need-"

"I know, I know! Gaaah…" Morgan groans. "Okay, fuck it! This is desperate now! We're jumping out the back and circling around to help!"

"That's too slow!" Lucina barks.

"We go out the front and we _die_. They picked a bad engagement, this is the best we can do!" Marc snaps. "Everybody out! We need to go _fast_ or those two are going to be cut to bits before we get there!"

Everyone does as they order. Even Kjelle in her full plate armor makes the jump just fine. They cut down the few Risen out the back, rush into the woods, and run all the way around to behind Severa and Brady.

"What are you two doing here?!" Lucina shouts as she, Owain, Kjelle, and Marc rush to support the swordswoman. "You're supposed to be back at Ylisstol!"

"Well hello to you too!" Severa snaps back angrily. "We heard there were bandit problems out where you were going, and we decided to come help! I didn't exactly expect to find fucking _walking corpses_!"

"Argue later! Circle formation!" Morgan commands. "We're going to be overrun in a moment, and we can't have our healer going down! We can't run now, we have to fight it out!"

The next hour is hell. The seven of them are attacked by a constant flood of Risen. It feels like every corpse in five miles decided it was party time and they wanted to attack some humans. Kjelle takes the brunt of the assault and fares incredibly well thanks to her armor and shield. She is _unbreakable_ despite the exhausting onslaught of Risen after Risen after Risen.

Lucina's sheer determination sees her through the fight more than anything. By the time the tide of monsters starts to wane it's clear she's running on pure adrenaline, and she'll collapse as soon as the fighting ends or if they have to continue for more than a few minutes longer. Having to pull out Aether more than once just to survive certainly doesn't help matters, as the move is clearly exhausting. Her fighting style relies on massive strikes and brute force, which drains her much more quickly than anyone else.

Owain is _startlingly_ competent. He's tired by the end, but is in much better shape than Lucina. His usual dramatic flourishes gave way to deadly precision and strikes that kill these monsters with minimal effort, making it so he exerts far less energy than Lucina does in the same time.

Severa is somewhat of a mix between Owain and Kjelle. She's precise, but also makes liberal use of her armshield for defence and can't quite muster the same deadly offence as Owain. Marc is brutally efficient, but mostly creative. She regularly slashes off he the arms of a Risen just so she can use it as a meat-shield against the others until the creature eventually bursts into smoke.

Morgan and Brady have a somewhat easier time, but that's only because they're doing a lot less movement. Brady overworks his staff near the end of the hour, and anymore use will cause it to shatter from the sheer amount of energy pushing through it, so he can't do anymore to help. Morgan's tome is also dangerously close to bursting into flames for the same reason. Overloading a magic channeling device almost always causes it to overheat and either explode or burn up.

The group, does, however, survive. They don't know how many Risen they cut down, and frankly they don't care. As soon as the crowd thins enough for them to break away, the group does so. Morgan and Brady have to catch Lucina as she collapses from overexertion and carry her along behind the others.

"We can't jump over the lava like this." Morgan mutters. "Okay, okay… We'll have to go upstream! We need to find a crossing point!"

This is going to be a _long_ march back to Ylisstol…

* * *

 **Sure, we'll go with this. I wasn't sure how far I'd go in this first chapter, but this is good enough. I'm not sure if I'm doing the characters justice though. This is a lot of plot and not much character interaction at the moment. Hopefully as this goes on that'll change.**

* * *

 **bwburke94** **:** Oh, well thanks. I'm not sure you've read many good SIs in that case, because I know of a few that are pretty good. _Cycle_ comes to mind. _Whispers and Songs_ isn't bad either. Erm… okay, maybe there aren't too many that come to my mind immediately, but I'm generally picky and narrow in my interests, so there's a fair chance I'm missing some good ones.

 **maridus** **:** Maybe we'll see more of it, but I'm not sure. OCs are always hard to work with. I think the premise carried the story more than the characters.

 **Ren4gade :** We'll see.


	27. Second Generation Replacement 2

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **Okay! Continuing this miniseries. Don't have an exact endpoint in mind, but considering the pace I set last chapter, I'm expecting around chapter 12-13… hmm… but that won't let me involve all the characters. I may have to pick up the pace, or just make this miniseries longer than expected.**

 **Either way, moving on!**

* * *

"Ooh, he's pretty." Morgan remarks.

"Yeah…" Marc agrees. "Uh, that _is_ a guy, right?"

"Yes, that is our Exalt, Sir Aesir." Kjelle supplies.

"Also our most closest of cousin!" Owain pronounces. "Why, we are practically siblings, having been joined at the hip since ages young!"

"His eyes are closed." Morgan notes. "I guess he doesn't have to walk, but that seems weird."

"Well considering he's _blind_ , it doesn't really matter if his eyes are open or not." Lucina chuckles. "It looks like he's heading back to the palace. We'll meet him there. He'll want to hear about the Risen."

"We get to meet the ruler of a nation?" Morgan whispers. "Woah."

"Yeah yeah, big deal." Severa huffs. "He's not _that_ impressive. He's a total wimp."

"Just because you can beat him in a fistfight does _not_ make him a wimp." Lucina scolds.

"It just means you have anger issues for letting out your frustrations in such a barbaric manner." Kjelle snaps. She glowers at the redhead, who is now shrinking away from her. "You're lucky you weren't thrown in prison for that."

"I got a little mad, so what…" Severa mutters. Her body language tells another story though, as she turns away in shame.

"Aesir's a weirdo though. Always so calm an' shit." Brady adds. "Nice guy, but weird. Never seen him lose his cool. Sometimes he gets happy, but never sad or mad. It's strange."

The group move through the city and up some wide marble stairs to reach the castle. It's made of stone, which is meticulously polished so that the sun shines off it's surface. The flag of Ylisse flies from every spire and tower in all its glory: a pair of white wings on a navy blue background.

Morgan, however, is more interested in the guards than the castle itself. "Ooh, they have fancy armor. Are they super elite?"

"I mean… sorta?" Lucina says. "They're well-trained for sure; professionals."

"I'm sensing a 'but' in there." Marc prods.

"Well, they aren't _Shepherds_ …" Lucina coughs.

"Noted." Morgan hums.

Kjelle's eyes narrow. "If you are planning an assault on the castle-"

"Kjelle." Lucina says sharply. The knight falls silent, albeit reluctantly.

All of them make their way into the throne room, empty as it is, and wait patiently for the return of Aesir. It doesn't take horribly long, only five minutes. The man strides into the room with two guards flanking him. "Lucina, Owain! You've returned! It gladdens me to see you safe."

"Behold fair cousin, the heroes of Ylisse have returned from their _dire_ mission!" Owain cries. "We bear ill tidings of corpses come to life, called the Risen! The ground itself rose against up, shooting lava, yet we survived to return to you my cousin!"

"Ah, that." Aesir hums. He barely reacts to Owain's theatrics. "I have been told of these things, and the earthquake was felt even here in Ylisstol. You call them Risen?"

"We encountered a strange traveller who fell through a crystal portal in the sky who called them such." Lucina explains. "Some of the Risen fell through the portal as well. I don't know that means for us."

"Hmm…" The exalt hums. "That _is_ curious. However, we have neither the means nor the information to make a call on its significance. As much as it pains me, I suggest we ignore it for now."

"Of course cousin." Lucina bows. "With that out of the way, I actually have a few introductions to make. These are Morgan and Marc. Tacticians, and skilled ones at that."

"Ah, I didn't hear you two there. Hello." The Exalt bows to the totally wrong side of Lucina, and one of the guards subtly nudge the man in the right direction.

"Heya!" Morgan chirps. "You're pretty!"

"Thank you." The Exalt says graciously.

"Yo. I hope you don't get attacked anytime soon, because your castle defences _suck_." Marc says bluntly. "Like, seriously, there are way too few guards here."

"Your concern is appreciated, if hopefully unwarranted." Aesir murmurs. "You both sound Plegian, are you travellers?"

"Amnesiacs." Owain supplies. "Of the most mysterious and powerful sort! _Gods_ of strategic mastery! _Lords_ of tactics! _Masters_ of-"

"Yes, yes, we get it." Severa cuts him off with a growl. "Shut up already! They didn't do _that_ much."

Lucina sighs. "Either way, cousin, I wish I could stay longer but…"

"She collapsed. Was out for a few hours on the way here. We had to carry her." Brady supplies.

"Lucina…" Aesir's tone conveys so much more than any look ever could. Concern, slight reprimand, exasperation, and amusement all in one. "Did you overuse Aether again?"

"Maybe." Lucina grumbles.

"Yes!" Severa smirks. "She did."

The Exalt lets out a long, suffering sigh. "All of you, bed. Now. No arguments. Kjelle, that means you too."

"But-"

"No arguments! I'm going to tell Laurent that if he sees any of you up before lunch, he's to send you right back to bed!" Aesir instructs with a slight smile. "Now go, sleep, before you pass out on the floor. The servants won't want to carry you."

"Yes _Dad_." Owain huffs.

"You better listen then, _Son_." Aesir says back with a serene smile. "Go."

The group does so. One of the guards actually escorts them to the Shepherds' barracks (much to Lucina's embarrassment) and goes off to find Laurent when they arrive. Kjelle takes it upon herself to give the tacticians their room. They are offered seperate rooms, as there are more than enough, but the twins decide (as the rooms are meant for two people each) to share. It just feels more comfortable for them.

Just as they're stepping into their rooms, they can see a mage with glasses and red hair walking with purpose down the halls. He gives Kjelle a curt nod and the twins a curious glance before moving on to the next hallway of rooms.

The twins dully realize that's probably Laurent, but are too tired to care. They drop into their beds as soon as they get the chance, not even bothering to take off their boots or coats.

###

"Laurent, please…" Lucina groans. It's almost a whine, and her face is slightly red. "I'm fine."

"Collapsing from exhaustion is not _fine_ your Highness." Laurent huffs as he carefully inspects her. "Brady-"

"She's fine boss. Calm yer horses." The priest chuckles. "Some more rest an' she'll be fine."

"Then I expect her to take _much_ rest." Laurent says firmly. "You will _not_ be training today."

"But-"

"No. Training. That goes for all of you." The mage points his finger in turn at everyone else who was out yesterday. "Even you Kjelle!"

"Why is everyone always picking out _me_?" The knight grumbles.

"If I see any of you training, I'll…" Laurent struggles to think up a suitable threat. "I'll tie you to your bed!"

"Ooh…" Another person who is eating lunch with them, a light-brown haired girl with pigtails and pegasus knight armor, giggles at this. "Laurent, have you been reading some of my books?"

"What?" The man's brows furrow. "No, why?"

"No reason…" The girl giggles again. "Ignore me."

Laurent doesn't get it, so he just turns back to the others. "Again, I expect to not see _any_ of you training today. No strenuous physical activity."

"By the gods, you're just as bad as Aesir." Owain huffs.

"You flatter me." Laurent says unflinchingly, taking it as a compliment. He gazes intensely at Lucina again. "My liege, I would have a word with you before you go off to your business today. I understand you encountered a new threat?"

"Yes, the Risen. I'll fill you in." Lucina sighs. "And I have told you to stop calling me by titles."

"That would be highly inappropriate Milady." Laurent retorts.

"Why don't you call _me_ by titles then?" Owain protests.

The man's mouth purses. "Would you prefer I do?"

"Well no…"

"Then I won't."

"Why _me_ then?" Lucina protests.

"You are too high status for me to do such a thing." The mage says instantly. "'Twould be inappropriate. Owain is less of a risk."

Kjelle snorts, and hides it poorly behind her hand. Laurent gives her a withering look. Lucina just looks lost.

Morgan and Marc share a look. " _You or me_?" Marc mouths.

" _You_."

"Okay, so, uh, me and Morg have no idea where anything is! Mind if we get a guide for today?" Marc says, breaking the awkwardness in the room. "Who knows where everything is?"

There's a brief pause as everyone goes quiet. After a few moment, Severa sighs and says "Yeah, okay, I'll show you two around. Anyone else coming?"

"Me!" The brown haired girl chirps.

"Cool, uh… who are you?" Morgan asks curiously.

"Oh, right. I never introduced myself. I'm Cynthia! The _hero_ of Ylisse!"

"That's not an official title." Lucina adds quickly. "She's like Owain."

"Ahh…" Marc nods sagely.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Cynthia huffs.

"It is." Severa grumbles under her breath. "Wait for it…"

"Hark! Owain Dark, hero of heroes, will also accompany the twin tacticians! Mine expertise will be invaluable!" The man cries out.

"And by that you mean you're coming because Cynthia is coming, right?" Severa asks dryly.

"...maybe."

"Well, we'll leave the rest of you awkward fucks here." Severa sighs as she stands up. "Come on you four. Let's get this dog and pony show on the road…"

###

"So, what's the juice? Laurent and Lucina are totally a thing, right?" Marc asks the _instant_ they're out of earshot of the people in the dining hall. Morgan laughs a bit at his sister's eagerness for gossip.

"Oh gods, I _wish_." Severa groans. "They've been dancing around each other for _years_ now. _Years!_ "

"My cousin doesn't recognize her own emotions very well." Owain chuckles. "Now Laurent…"

"He knows _exactly_ what he feels and is doing his damndest to suppress it." Severa grumbles. "He's always like "yes your Highness", "of course your Magesty", "let me lick your boot Milady". It's annoying…"

Cynthia is grinning. "They're both _shy_ ; I think it's adorable!"

"It was adorable for the first two or three months. Now it's just a pain." Severa grumbles, then glares at Owain and Cynthia. "You two aren't much better, though at least you actually flirt rather than poorly trying not to."

"Wh-What?! I have n-no idea what you're talking about!" Owain protests. He's suddenly not meeting anyone's eyes.

"Yeah! W-We don't do that!" Cynthia agrees.

Severa turns tired eyes to Morgan and Marc. "See what I have to deal with?"

Marc puts a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "I feel you."

Morgan just shakes his head and laughs.

###

The next day, after everyone has come to the breakfast table, Lucina clears her throat and speaks up. "Everyone! I have an announcement. My cousin, our Exalt, has given us a mission. We are to head to Ferox and request aid in dealing with Plegian aggression. A defensive pact for mutual protection. Now, this mission is strictly voluntary-"

"Owain Dark will accompany you!" The boy cries.

"As will Cynthia!" The girl adds with a shout and a smile.

"I'm in." Severa shrugs.

"Guess I gotta come, or yer all gonna die." Brady sighs.

"I too will accompany you." Laurent nods.

"Me!" Morgan chirps.

"Me too!" Marc adds.

"Of course, I am coming with you Milady." Kjelle says.

"Thank you everyone." Lucina smiles. "We will leave tomorrow morning. Everyone, take the day to prepare! It will be cold, so buy some warm clothes if you don't have some. Kjelle, I expect you to deal with all the general supplies like our rations. Can I count on you for that?"

"Of course Milady." The knight nods. "I have only a few things of my own to procure, so I have plenty of time."

"Good. Severa, can I trust you to help Morgan and Marc again?"

"Sure. We're going shopping today kids!" Severa is smiling madly, and Marc is intrigued and amused.

"We don't have money." Morgan speaks up.

"Ah, right." Lucina reaches into her pockets, pulls out two pouches, and tosses one to each tactician. "Spend wisely. Severa can get a bit carried away, so don't get _everything_ she does."

Severa pouts, but she doesn't contradict the princess.

"Be ready to leave at dawn tomorrow." The princess instructs. "Dismissed!"

###

"Wow, this is cold." Morgan chirps. Despite the fact that he's shivering, he still sounds very chipper. "I don't know how you do it Kjelle! You must be freezing in that armor. It's metal…"

"I will not be downed by simple cold." Kjelle scoffs. "I am insulated under my armor with warm clothing, so I am not as cold as I look anyhow."

"Oh, that's good." Morgan says through chattering teeth. "So… how are you?"

Kjelle gives the boy a suspicious look. "Why do you care…?"

"Because you're cool!" Morgan says eagerly.

Kjelle doesn't look like she knows how to react to that. She says "Oh… okay." and turns away from the boy. Her expression is one of slight confusion. Marc laughs silently and winks at her brother, who pouts.

"This sucks." Brady grumbles. His cloak is thick and warm, but the boy still looks freezing. His frail body doesn't agree with the cold, and he's even riding on the back of Lucina's horse because of how poorly he's faring so far. "How close are we?"

"We should come upon the border wall any moment." The princess says. "Don't worry. We'll be near a fire soon."

She's right on one account. They _do_ find the border wall in only a few minutes. Lucina steps off her horse, and Kjelle steps in behind her as a guard, before stepping up the wall and calling to the guards there. "Greetings!"

"Who are you? State your purpose!" A guard barks.

"I am Lucina! Princess of Ylisse!" The blue-haired girl shouts back. "I've come on a diplomatic mission to Ferox, I wish to speak with the Ruling Khan."

"You? Lucina? Sure, and I'm Walhart." The guards scoffs. "Fuck off Plegains, you don't fool us! If you bother us anymore, we'll be forced to kill you."

"Excuse you?" Kjelle growls. "You shall _not_ speak to the princess in such a manner!"

"Kjelle, please…" Lucina hisses. She turns back to the guards. "Please, reconsider! I speak the truth. I can prove it, I have the mark."

"Easily faked!" The guard shoots back. "If you are so insistent on your farce, then prove yourself! The princess is said to be a warrior! If you are her, than you should easily be able to best us!"

"Fine, as you wish!" Lucina snaps back. "Shepherds, prepare for combat! Morgan, Marc, give us a plan!"

"Right, right, uh…" Morgan mutters as he frowns at the gates. "Marc, what's our strategy?"

"Find the captain, capture them, get everyone else to stand down. To do that, we need to get into the wall." Marc says. "What are our tactics?"

"We're going to focus on one point." Morgan indicates one of the smaller locked doors off to the side, rather than the main gate. "We're not going to get a key, so we need another way. Either we have Cynthia fly over the wall with someone on her back and fight off the guards while the other opens the door, or we need to find a way to break down the door."

"Perhaps I can be of some aid." Laurent offers, and pulls out an elfire tome. "Would an explosion do the trick?"

"I hope so!" Morgan grins. "Alright! Tough people in front! Until we can see more, we'll go with the standard front-to-back battle formation."

As it turns out, the standard battle formation works rather well. Laurent blows open the door with elfire, and Kjelle stomps in first with her spear bristling. The Feroxi guards, while more ferocious, are undisciplined compared to Ylissian soldiers. The Shepherds make short work of them, and in minutes they've reached the back of the wall where the captain of the guards is standing in full plate armor.

"Well, you've certainly caused a ruckus." The captain sneers. "Let's see if you're who you say you are, princess. Have at you!"

Lucina pulls out a thin rapier instead of using Falchion. Over the course of the (laughably one-sided) battle she pokes at holes in the captain's armor and causes small wounds with the sharp point of her blade. Eventually, due to the damage sustained to her joints, the captain collapses after they give out.

"Well, now that you're done being _foolish_ , perhaps you can give us directions to our destination?" Lucina says with a hint of scorn in her voice.

###

"Lucina…"

"Yes?"

"Who is the khan anyways?" Morgan asks curiously.

"Her name is Narna." Lucina explains. "A fierce warrior, known more for her skill in combat than leadership skills. That said, she has a knack for recognizing talent, and supposedly she's good at delegating, so the country still runs smoothly under her rule."

"Interesting…" Morgan murmurs.

"That said, we may have to go see the west khan as well to get both leaders on our side." Lucina notes. "The east khan is in power currently, but such a major decision may require the approval of both khans."

"Who's the other Khan?" Marc questions.

"A man by the name of Lon'qu. Supposedly he was born in Chon'sin, which makes it even more unusual that he managed to become a khan. He's a swordsman of the highest caliber, and known for being stern and very thorough." Lucina provides. A smile crosses her face when she adds: "there are also rumors that he is a gynophobe, though him having a wife would seem to discredit that."

"He sounds fun." Marc smirks.

Lucina silently hopes Marc never meets Lon'qu, for the man's safety.

###

"Ya wanna kick Plegia's ass?"

"Well, _officially_ no, we want a defensive pact so that in the event Plegia declares war Ylisse and Ferox can rely on the other's help."

"So you wanna wait for Plegia to declare war so you look good, _then_ kick their ass." Narna says.

"More or less." Kjelle shrugs.

"Kjelle!" Lucina hisses.

"What? It's true. Don't pretend you don't want to put Plegia in their place." Kjelle chuckles.

Lucina sighs. "Well _yes_ , but that's not something appropriate to admit."

"Hah! We here in Ferox prefer plain intentions. I know Ylisse has all this political correctness nonsense where ya gotta hide what ya think because people got skin thinner than paper, but here you can speak yer mind girl!" Narna grins.

"Then yes, I'd like to pound Plegia's ruler into the dirt." Lucina says bluntly. "They've caused enough harm for Ylisse over the last several years despite our attempts to make amends and Aesir's pacifict policy. They _will_ be shown that petty revenge has its own consequences."

"There's the fire!" Narna laughs. "Well Princess, Ferox will happily stand behind Ylisse! However, I do have a request."

"Hmm?" Lucina's eyes narrow. "What is it?"

"Don't look so suspicious! I just want the Shepherds to participate in our yearly tournament!" Narna laughs. "It's a group tournament, meant for the best fighters to compete for top spot! The stakes usually involve a prize and, if the competitor is a military group, a possible promotion or time off. I just want you to participate as a show of good faith between our countries."

"Ah." Lucina looks a bit sheepish about her earlier suspicion. "Well in that case, we would consider it our honor."

"Great! The tourney is in one week, so I'll get you some temporary lodgings and write out an official message accepting the defensive pact to send back to your cousin by messenger. I presume you'll want to send a message as well, informing him of what's happening?"

"Yes please."

"I'll have paper and pen delivered to you then." The Khan says. She waves a hand, and a servant rushes in and bows. "He'll show you to your rooms. You and your Shepherds are invited to dine with us tonight as well. It ain't fancy, so don't dress up. Now, I got another meeting to attend to, so I'm gonna scram."

The khan rises from her seat and strides out the room. Lucina blinks in disbelief as she watches the lady go.

"That was… that was not what I expected." Lucina says slowly.

"A resounding success however." Kjelle points out.

"Excuse me Princess." The servant says. "I have other duties, so if you wouldn't mind…?"

"Ah, right. Lead on." Lucina says in embarrassment.

###

"Lucina." Marc whispers, pointing to a certain part of the crowd. "We have an _interesting_ spectator."

The princess glances where Marc points, and spies the person she's indicating. It's the masked boy from the crystal portal. "How curious…" Lucina whispers. "I wonder what it means, why here? He has a mission, but instead he spends time watching us."

"Perhaps we are important?" Morgan suggests. "Or you at least. You're famous, right? Maybe what you do is important to his mission?"

"I hope not." Lucina grimaces. "However, I'll keep it in mind."

The most difficult fight in the tournament for the Shepherds comes unexpectedly in the quarterfinals. The group finds themselves facing off against a band of mercenaries: axemen and dark mages mostly, but headed by a fierce looking bow knight.

It's not the grunts that are dangerous. The bow knight presents all of the challenge on his own. His bow picks off Brady right at the start of the battle, giving him an arrow through each shoulder, and that makes the battle infinitely more difficult due to having no healer.

The axemen hold up the Shepherds long enough for the bow knight to pick off Severa, the dark mages to the same thing, and the man takes out Marc. The final fight comes to Lucina, Kjelle, and Owain against just him, but even that doesn't go over easily. His horse effortlessly dances around Kjelle, allowing him to pepper her full of holes so that she collapses from blood loss rather than any particular wound.

Owain finally manages to strike down the man's horse with a precise slash to the animal's leg. The man leaps off as his horse falls and lands on the floor with bow in hand. He doesn't wait before snapping a shot at Owain, which the myrmidon barely manages to dodge, but he doesn't manage to get out of the way of the sword thrust that comes a moment later. The bow knight had dropped his bow to be able to pull out his sword more quickly.

Lucina can hardly believe it's just her left. "You're quite the surprise! I'll admit, this didn't look like much of a challenge before we started."

The man smiles grimly as he raises his sword at her. "I've trained to kill monsters, the worst of humanity. No offense to you lot, but heroes are seldom as dangerous."

"I sense a story here."

"It's not a fun tale."

"Well, I hope to prove myself a bit more dangerous than these monsters you fight sir." Lucina smiles. "I'm no slouch in my own training, and I have my own goal to fight for."

He nods seriously. His dark purple hair shines in the firelight, which also casts eerie shadows over his face. "Well then, fellow warrior, perhaps consider a test. For _both_ of us."

"Gladly." Lucina raises her own sword. "One last question."

"Hmm?"

"Your name. If you don't mind of course."

"Morson." He provides. "And you?"

"Lucina Lowell." She grins. "Now, on guard!"

It's been a while since Lucina has fought someone of such skill aside from Owain. Morson is almost _manic_ in his movements, and often wears expressions of such ferocity Lucina fears he's genuinely furious. She scores numerous small hits on him due to his wild attacks, but nothing slows him down, and her hits often come at the prince of a close shave. She might be doing well on the surface, but that's quite deceptive. She has to wear Morson down, while one hit from him is likely to take her out of the fight instantly.

Moreson also doesn't hesitate to use his free hand while fighting. His steel sword is in one hand, and the other is constantly going for grabs at her arm, her clothes, and sometimes even her _blade_ if he can grab the flat parts of it. He never backs off or lets her put distance between them, and at points they're nearly chest-to-chest from the constant forward momentum he uses.

Eventually Morson does score a grab. His hand catches her tunic at the hem near her hips, and his sword quickly tangles with Falchion, leaving Lucina in a precarious position. She takes one hand off the hilt of her weapon, and grabs at his free arm to stop him from pulling her around. It's a very awkward position for the both of them as the struggle to keep the other's blade from slicing into them while at the same time fumbling around with their other hand. Just like some other points of the fight, they're so close together that they can feel the other's breath. Sweat shines on each of their foreheads, and Lucina can see shadows dancing around his body like some malevolent shroud from the torchlight

" _Wait, that's not torchlight, that's_ _magic_ _._ " Lucina realizes. Black and purple shadows slide off Moreson's body like evaporating mist, and cause his already purple eyes to glow in the dimming light of the evening. " _I need to end this fast, that can't be good_."

Taking a chance, she uses her free hand to punch at the man's face, causing him to dodge and pull his own hand back. Lucina takes the opportunity to disengage and put a few feet between them so she can reassess.

Morson is slightly hunched over in a battle stance with his mouth in a permanent snarl. His brow is furrowed, but his eyes are open wide and _glare_ at the princess with a fury she hopes isn't genuine.

" _Okay, it's a risk, but he's going to outlast me if we keep fighting like this._ " Lucina realizes. She's panting pretty hard, and her heart is pounding with adrenaline, but she's near the point of crashing. Even adrenaline can't keep her going forever, and it's clear Morson isn't as close to collapsing as she is despite his injuries.

Before Morson can lunge and close the distance, Lucina tosses Falchion up high, leaps up after it, and whirls down at the man while shouting out "Aether!"

Falchion cuts deeply into the man's side, sapping life from him and gifting it back to Lucina. The follow-up strike slashes into the man's shoulder that connect to the hand holding his sword, forcing him to drop it.

It's to Lucina's total astonishment that aether _doesn't_ end the battle. When she turns back around to face the battered, bleeding man, he's still standing. The purple and black shadows around his body have grown double in intensity and denseness of opacity. His eyes meet hers, and, for just a moment, he _grins_ at her.

"Nice trick. Here's mine."

He lunges at her, and Lucina makes the critical mistake of swinging her blade just a moment too early. One of his hands grabs the blade, ignoring how it cuts into his palm. His other hand pulls back, forming into a fist, and all the shadows on his body suddenly pool around it.

"VENGEANCE!"

The first slams into Lucina's chest, and she can feel her ribs _crack_ under the impact. The world blurs around her, and Lucina doesn't realize it's not because of tears but because she's _flying through the air_ until her back meets the stone wall with a sickening crack and she blacks out a moment later.

###

"Ow…"

"Well, what did you expect?" Brady scolds. "Seriously boss, you two did a huge number on each other. There's no way we can heal that much in one sitting. Any more healing as is and mana sickness is gonna start takin' its toll."

"Morson can't be bad as me…" Lucina groans.

"You kidding? He's half dead from blood loss, you nearly severed his shoulder, and he broke all the bones in his hand with that last stunt. Morson couldn't even finish the tournament because of how badly you brutalized him. You both had to be rushed to the medical wing." The boy huffs. "You two are regular berserkers, you know that? Honestly boss, this was supposed to be a _tournament_ , not a fight to the death!"

"Sorry." Lucina says sheepishly. "How long until I'm out?"

"A few days at least." Brady sighs. A small smiles crosses his face when he says: "Incidentally, the crowd loved it, and I heard Narna say she hadn't seen a better fight in her whole life. So ya did _something_ right."

Lucina laughs, but the pain in her chest stops that quickly. "Erm… how are the others?"

"Laurent was freakin' out the last I saw, Morgan, Marc, Owain, and Cynth are gushin' 'bout how cool you two were, and Kjelle and Sev are angry they got beat." Brady supplies.

"Ah."

"Yeah, uh, they'll probably be let in to see ya tomorrow, so be ready for that." Brady sighs. "Be ready, 'cuz I think some of them are gonna have strong words for ya."

Lucina isn't surprised. "I'd expect no less. I probably deserve it…"

"Damn right you do." Brady grumbles. "Scared us there boss. Can't go around turnin' fun fights into death battles."

###

"Your Highness! Oh thank Naga." Laurent breathes.

"I'm fine Laurent."

"I dare say you're not!" The boy says loudly. He's clearly trying not to shout. "Milady, that was incredibly irresponsible of you! I cannot condone turning a glorified sparring match into a fight to the death! You should have thrown in the towel well before it came to that!"

"Sorry…"

"No you're not." The boy sighs. He takes off his glasses and cleans them. His heavy breathing is fogging them up. "You were enjoying yourself, weren't you?"

"Maybe a little." Lucina admits. "It was quite the rush."

The boy shakes his head in defeat. "Sometimes you're worse than Owain…"

"I heard that!"

"Then you're eavesdropping!" Laurent snaps back at the door. "I said I wanted this to be _private_!"

"Owain!" Severa's voice hisses. "You blew it."

"Oops…"

"C'mon Owain, it was getting good." Marc huffs.

Laurent's body sags. "Well, either way, I'm glad to see you're healing well. I'll speak to you another time Milady."

"Of course."

He walks to the door and opens it, everyone else rushes in as Laurent steps out. The mage shoots them all a withering look, and they grin back at him unabashedly for a moment before turning to Lucina.

Lucina takes a deep (slightly painful) breath, and settles in for a long session of settling the worries of her team.

###

"Hello again."

"Greetings." Lucina smiles. "You pack quite a punch."

"As do you, if a bit less literally." Morson grins back. "Apologies for breaking your ribs though. I got carried away."

"Well, considering I nearly bled you dry and almost severed your arm, I think we're even." The princess offers.

"Indeed." Morson nods. "With that though, I must leave. I stayed only to be sure you were alright. It would do ill for me to leave you gravely injured or dead by my hand from a friendly tournament."

"Ah." Lucina was hoping to talk more, but if he's busy she really has no business holding him up. "Well then, good luck. I hope we can meet again someday."

"Yes… that would be nice." He smiles. "Goodbye. May your blade always strike true Miss Lowell."

"May your determination never fail you." Lucina smirks. "Happy hunting Morson."

The man turns around and walks to a group of people, his group likely, waiting at the door. Within a few minutes they're gone, and the princess wonders if they'll ever meet again.

* * *

 **You know what? I think this makes a good stopping point. Next chapter of Varied Awakenings will be something else, then we'll go back to Second Generation Replacement in the usual pattern I did with Pokemon in Fire Emblem.**

* * *

 **bwburke94** **:** To each their own I suppose.

 **Bakururu :** I'll be honest, I use Marc for female and Morgan for male mostly because it's the opposite of what _I_ would expect. In a way, I use those names in that fashion as a self-reminder to be flexible and open-minded.


	28. The Dungeon of Darius Lowell

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **Hmm… gonna do my own thing this time around. So, as any of you who have read** _ **The Robin Variable**_ **probably know, I have my own version of the world of Awakening. This includes elements like the Fey Jungle, the Titan Sinkhole, the Dead Swamp, as well as the character Emmet, and reoccuring background elements like Chrom's father being named Darius and Darius having both a secret garden where he raised exotic (and often extremely dangerous) plants from the Fey Jungle like the hangman tree (shown off in chapter 46), and he also has a special dungeon where he had experiments conducted on prisoners of war to try and create supersoldiers and living weapons (mentioned briefly, and is the origin story for Robin in chapter 51).**

 **So, this chapter is going to be exploring that dungeon more. This is** _ **pure**_ **self-indulgence.**

* * *

Chrom steps up to the cell. He gestures for Frederick to bring the light closer, and soon the flame dimly illuminates the chamber in front of them. Chrom squints, grimaces, and says "dead."

Miriel scribbles that down in the map she's making. "That makes two live prisoners and twenty-three dead Milord."

"At least this one doesn't seem to have any strange qualities Milord." Frederick mutters. "As callous as it may sound of me, this is one less thing to worry about."

The prince nods. Compared to the other bodies they've found, this one doesn't have strange mutations, fire marks on the walls, they aren't unduly shackled, and don't have anti-magic barriers set up around them. They've also clearly been dead for a _long_ time, though due to how strangely clean this whole place is the haven't decomposed too much.

Chrom hopes they died quickly, rather than the drawn-out torture and death so many of the others seem to have suffered.

"Let's move on." He says through a hoarse throat. "There's still the west wing."

"Milord, there is still one last cell in the east." Miriel alerts him. She shows him the map she obtained from the office room. "Here. It seems to be the most secure, seeing as it is isolated from the others."

"Right." Chrom breathes. "Lead the way."

They walk past cell after cell, each containing a single corpse. Some tell more of a story than others, like the woman with leaves growing from her head instead of hair, vines replacing her fingers, and with shriveled brown skin like a dead leaf rather than skin, or the man with burned stumps instead of hands and anti-magic sigils on all the walls around him.

Some of the other cells closer to the office tell a story in a more literal sense, as three are actually alive. One of them, a polite man by the name of Robin, seems to be the most undamaged of the three, and was more than happy to tell them the usual goings on of the dungeon from his limited knowledge.

Robin has been the only prisoner to not be chained in some manner, and his cell has actual furnishings (basic as they may be). Though when he casually recounted being forced to consume mild-altering drugs and being subjected to torturous dark-magic once a week, Chrom quickly dismissed his thought of this man being 'undamaged' in any sense but physically.

Seeing all the things he has so far in this dungeon, Chrom isn't sure he _wants_ to know what his father decided was dangerous enough to be kept away from the others in a special cell.

The cell in question is tucked away behind a thick metal barricade with no windows, and a chained metal door. Chrom puts his ear to the door, hears nothing, and so unlocks it with his key ring and steps inside.

Just inside the barricade is a standard cell dimly lit with magic light orbs, the same kind that many mages use to light up their houses. Several dozen chains are attached at the wall, floor, and ceiling and lead to the center of the room.

The center of the _room_ , not the floor. All the chains are pulled taunt, suspending the prisoner in the air. They have a metal helmet over their face, covering everything but their closed, sunken eyes and long smoke-grey hair that goes all the way to the floor, and it looks like there's a locked section around the mouth of the mask. The rest of their body is totally hidden by all the shackles covering them, as well as small metal balls covering their hands and feet.

When Chrom steps up close to the bars, the prisoner's head shifts and their (apparently grey) eyes open.

Chrom is surprised they're alive at all, and is also mildly worried. So many of the (seemingly) more dangerous prisoners are dead, so why is _this_ one alive?

"Hello?" Chrom coughs. He doesn't know if that helmet blocks the prisoner's ability to hear or not. "My name is Chrom."

Frederick coughs.

" _Prince_ Chrom, of Ylisse." He amends. "Erm… can you hear me?"

The prisoner blinks. They visible area just around their eyes move in a way that suggests a smile crossing their face.

Chrom takes that as a yes. That's not a particularly reassuring reaction though. "Miriel?"

"Yes Milord?"

"What do we do about this one?" He asks quietly. "Can we risk going in?"

"Presumably they had to be fed over the course of their stay, as well as have their cell cleaned, and as such there should be a reasonably safe way to interact with them." Miriel offers.

"But do we need special gear?" Chrom mutters. "Remember that mask we found in the storage room? The one with the sigils on the inside to clean the air?"

"I am aware. However, I suspect their current restraints are sufficient as this cell is not air-tight, and there are no further sigils present." The mage says.

"Right…" The prince takes a deep breath, and approaches the cell door and unlocks it. He turns around and hands the keys to Frederick. "Lock it behind me Fredrick."

"Milord-"

"We have to be safe Frederick."

"At least let _me_ be the one to-"

"No." Chrom says firmly, cutting him off. "This was my father's doing. I won't let you take the risk here. It's my responsibility."

"That's absurd." Miriel scoffs. "The notion that one's lineage should denote responsibility for the actions of that lineage, especially when the individual had no prior involvement with those actions, is folly."

"Then I'm doing this for my own peace of mind." Chrom insists.

Frederick clearly does _not_ like this, but recognizes his leige's stubbornness as something he won't overcome. Reluctantly he allows it, but only because he recognizes that an old man managed to care for this prisoner for several years without death or serious injury, and as such Chrom should _probably_ be fine.

That old man is one Julius Daeman. He was a fervent supporter of Chrom's father, Exalt Darius. After Darius's death, Julius secretly continued upkeep of the dungeon, it's prisoners, and the experiments Exalt Darius had been carrying out on said prisoners. This included bringing food, and occasionally other personnel (other supporters of Darius) down to the secret dungeon. Only on his deathbed did he reveal the existence of the dungeon to the royal family, because he wouldn't be able to keep the place running and only the royal family would be able to do so (but he knew they wouldn't want to, hence why he held off on telling them).

"Okay…" Chrom mutters to himself as he approaches the prisoner. Their eyes follow him, still wrinkled in a supposed smile. Steeling himself again, he tests several keys on the section of the helmet locking the prisoner's mouth until he finds one that fits. He slides it in the keyhole, removes the lock, and quickly steps back.

The metal segment of the helmet drops on its hinges, exposing the prisoner's mouth. They have chapped lips that are pulled into a wide grin, and noticeably pointed teeth. "Hello…" they whisper in a hoarse voice.

"Ah, hello. You can hear me?" Chrom asks cautiously.

"Yes." They say. The prisoner tilts their head slightly to the side, still grinning. "Prince… aha, that man actually had a child… cute…"

"I presume you mean Darius Lowell?"

"If by that you mean the blue-haired man from before… yes." The prisoner chuckles. "So… what about _you_? Is it food today? Or more 'encouragement'?"

"I'll organize the first, and I can promise none of the second." Chrom says firmly. "I am _not_ my father, nor am I like Julius."

"Really now?" The prisoner says softly. "Then, perhaps you wouldn't mind… letting me out of these restraints?"

Chrom hesitates. "Well…"

"Different, hmm?" They laugh somewhat mockingly. "Easy to say, but to prove…?"

"We don't know how mentally stable you are." The prince says firmly. He doesn't feel as confident as he sounds, but he recognizes the need to keep up appearances. "You could be hostile; a danger to others, or possibly even to yourself."

"Prince…" The prisoner whispers. It sounds almost like a coo. "Do you know how I was kept under control?"

"The restraints."

"No…" They laugh softly. "Not just these shackles. I'll have the strength to break free in a week if you don't discover and apply that control measure, and if you are as different as you claim to be I doubt you will _want_ to apply that measure."

Chrom has a vague idea of what they're talking about. It's likely some drug, or a form of energy drain like nosferatu. They're absolutely right in thinking Chrom would be reluctant to apply such a thing.

"So…" They coo again. "Let me out. You have a chance to prove yourself, to gain my trust… don't waste it."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"Because I'm trustworthy." They say. "Ask me something I know, and I'll tell you the truth. I promise."

Chrom pauses, thinking on this. Miriel speaks up from the other side of the cell bars. "I can have their information fetched Milord, you need not engage in their game."

"But then where's the trust?" The prisoner asks. "How can I be sure you have as good intentions as you claim to if you know everything about me, weaknesses, strengths, to begin with?"

Chrom knows they're taunting him and playing with him, but they also have a point. He's always prided himself on being just, and offering a helping hand to anyone in distress regardless of gender or nationality. This person is a plegian prisoner of war who was imprisoned far longer than they should have been. What right does he have to keep them in chains for even a moment longer?

"Milord, they are baiting you." Frederick warns. "Do _not_ comply with their request."

"Frederick…" The prince says calmly.

" _No_ Milord." Frederick recognizes the look on his legie's face though. Again, he knows Chrom is already resolute in doing this. Regardless, he tries to speak sense. "Please, reconsider. Your safety is much more important than trust here. Trust is unlikely as it is, they've been our prisoner likely for years. There is no need to gamble."

"But do you really want to give up a chance for trust? For _amends_?" The prisoner purrs. "Are you willing to pass that up? You can help heal some of your father's damage, the _injuries_ he gave me..."

Frederick thinks it quite astounding that this prisoner has such a read on Chrom's personality that they can manipulate him so easily. He absently wonders if the prisoner is much of a physical threat at all, or if they're separated and restrained purely because of their manipulation skills.

"Frederick…" Chrom says slowly.

"I know what you're thinking Milord." The knight says adamantly. "And I disagree vehemently."

"I have to Frederick."

"No, you don't." Frederick responds bluntly.

"I agree with Frederick Milord." Miriel adds. "I advise restraint."

"Come on… _trust_ …" The prisoner whispers. "Help me… _I'm_ the victim here…"

Chrom shoots his knight a look, and Frederick bites back a sigh. Of course he's still going to do it. Knowing Chrom, he'd probably pick a _grimleal_ up out of the grass if he had even the slightest reason to trust them. He really does want to see the best in everyone… even if it's a _terrible_ idea.

"Be careful Milord."

"I will." The prince reassures. He walks up to the figure, and decides to start with the chains holding them aloft. The same key works for all their shackles, so it doesn't take more than a minute to get the upper shackles off.

The prince expected the prisoner to suddenly drop to the floor, but the shackles coming from the walls to the side still keep them pulled between them and aloft. Chrom works on those next, pointedly _not_ freeing the prisoner's hands or legs yet. Those will come last.

With more and more shackles taken off them, parts of the prisoner's body are becoming visible. They're deathly pale as expected, but they also apparently have some rags on underneath the shackles. It looks like the remains of a woman's dark mage outfit.

This is also the point that Chrom realizes the prisoner is indeed female. Her voice gave no sign of it, being so hoarse as to disguise it.

"I suppose I never asked." Chrom murmurs as he removes more of her restraints. "What's your name?"

"Reflet." They say. "Reflet Vastatio…"

"And what did father and Julius do to you?"

"Oh, this and that." Reflet chuckles darkly. "You'll see in a minute…"

Chrom is not reassured. He can already see some signs of abuse on her body, like long, thin, healed cuts on her sides and shiny burn tissue on her back. She's incredibly malnourished (as are _all_ of the prisoners to be fair) and Chrom absently wonders if she'd even be able to walk if she _was_ unshackled.

In a few minutes Reflet is almost completely unshackled. The only restraints remaining are the metal balls around her hands and feet (which are also tethered to the floor), as well as the majority of her helmet. At this point Chrom notices some strange traits, like how her skin is actually slightly grey-ish, and her emancipated appearance doesn't seem to reflect her actual strength, as she's already managing to push herself up a bit despite the heavy metal helmet and not having proper use of any of her limbs.

Freeing Reflet's feet and head reveal nothing unusual. Perfectly human and normal. The last thing to free are her hands, and as soon as Chrom gets one off it becomes clear just why she's shackled.

Her fingers are unusually long, being about twice the length of a normal person's, and end in sharp claws. They were forced to curl up inside the metal orbs restraining her hands, and when Reflet stretches them they make a cracking noise that makes all three Shepherds cringe.

"Ah…" Reflet grins as she draws herself to her feet. She's a lot taller than Chrom was expecting, being a full head taller than him. He also notices that her arms are disproportionately long compared to the rest of her body, with her fingers stretching all the way down to her knees when she's standing up straight. "How nice to be free, even if in this… strange… body."

"I presume you weren't always like this?" Chrom asks. He's trying to be subtle about the fact that he's backing up to the cell door.

"Not until your father mixed some other creature's blood with mine, and added some ritual onto that." Reflet scoffs. "What did he call it…? Wonder doggo? Wind dingo? Something like that."

"Wendigo." Miriel corrects. "A creature known for consuming human flesh, and rarely documented and even less studied considering they live primarily in far-flung Feroxi settlements, are solitary, and quite rare at that."

"Human flesh you say…" Frederick says in a low voice. His hand not holding the torch not-so-subtly rests on his lance.

"I probably ate some of that." Reflet says, not helping the situation. "I mean, I didn't exactly get a _choice_ in what I ate…"

A chill runs down Chrom's spine, and he tenses visibly when Reflet turns her eyes to him.

"And while I am _curious_ about what a person might taste like…" She whispers. "At the same time, I'm not necessarily inclined to find out for a number of reasons including, but certainly not limited to, the amorality of such a thing."

Chrom lets out a quiet sigh of relief. Frederick doesn't seem to buy it, but he's never been able to take anything a stranger says at face value (and that's probably a good thing to be honest, as much as Chrom and Lissa poke fun at him for it).

"So, what's to become of me?" Reflet asks. She stretches her long-restrained limbs, unintentionally (or perhaps intentionally) drawing attention to her long arms. There's just something uncanny and unnerving about them, and her proportions in general.

"I… well it's not like we had time to think about this." Chrom says slowly. "Erm… letting you out unguarded would be _incredibly_ risky considering we don't know the extent of your mutations, and you will absolutely have to undergo numerous psychological examinations."

Reflet huffs in irritation, but seems relatively calm considering Chrom just denied her freedom. "So I can't go home?"

"To Plegia? I mean… eventually you'll be able to, probably." Chrom says uncertainty. "At the current time that would be a bit problematic, considering Plegia's current leader, but I see no reason why not after we determine you to be mentally and medically stable."

"Oh good." She drawls. "Do I have to stay here in the meantime?"

"We're going to move everyone out of this place. You'll get better housing, likely in one of the castle towers." Chrom says firmly. "You'll still have a cell, but a much better one."

"I suppose that works…" Reflet murmurs. "So-"

The girl is cut off by a loud crashing noise coming from the hallway behind them, swiftly followed by the sounds of shouting. Chrom can hear Sully and Vaike yelling specifically, with Sully shouting for backup…

Sully shouting for backup is always a bad sign.

"Fredrick, let me out, we need to go help."

"Yes Milord." Frederick takes the one key Chrom gave to him and opens the cell. Chrom steps out, but before the cell can close again Reflet sticks a hand between the door and the frame.

"Stand down." Frederick commands immediately, and again reaches for his lance.

"I can help…" Reflet offers with an eerie smile.

"Let her pass Frederick."

"Milord-!"

"I won't turn down help." The prince says, and then looks firmly at Reflet. "You listen to _me_ though. If I say to stop, you stop. If I tell you to do something, you do it."

"Of course…" She grins, showing her pointed teeth.

The four of them rush through the hallways over to the west wing. Chrom had instructed Sully, Vaike, Stahl, and Kellam to scope out the area for immediate threats of containment breach or anyone in need of immediate medical attention ( _all_ of the prisoners need medical attention of course, but Chrom was referring to particularly bad cases) but leave closer study and any extensive interaction to himself and Miriel.

There must have been a breach of one of the cells. Chrom hopes that his Shepherds are all still alive.

Chrom bursts into the main hallway, waves for Lissa (who is standing by) to follow, and pushes into the west wing.

"Ah, Milord, just in time!" Virion shouts as he nocks an arrow in his bow. "We have a bit of a situation!"

"So I've noticed." Chrom says as he peers down the hall. "What are we up against?"

"How to describe them…?" Virion murmurs.

A low, reverberating moan echoes down the hallway. The shadows around Chrom seem to grow more intense, and encroach on the light as if they were not merely an absence of light, but a force of their own.

Virion lets his arrow fly, and quickly pulls out another one. "Do not get grabbed, stay in the light. This whole ordeal started when Stahl reduced the light in the prisoner's cell because it was blindingly light."

"Noted. Frederick, Reflet, we're moving in." Chrom orders. "Miriel, help Virion cover us."

"Yes Milord."

Chrom draws Falchion and charges down the hallway. He can't even see their enemy, but he can see the torch Kellam is holding behind his shield and thrusting his spear into the shadows in front of him.

Frederick overtakes Chrom and Reflet, and rushes past even the other Shepherds already fighting to slam his lance into the target. Long, ink-black claws slash at him in return from the darkness, connected to an unseen body.

Reflet snarls and leaps over the Shepherds at the thing. The others flinch at the unexpected surprise, but when it becomes clear Reflet is on their side they breathe a sigh of relief and keep up the fight. Claws fight against claws, swords, spears, arrows, and fire magic. Miriel intentionally misses their foe once to allow her magic to light it up and make it visible for a split second.

The prisoner is a tall humanoid with ink-black skin, hunched over due to its immense height. In some ways it resembles Reflet, having unnaturally long arms ending in claws and an emaciated frame, but that's the end of the resemblance. It's body seems to shun light, with its features being hard to distinguish from being all purely black. From what everyone _can_ see though, the creature's face isn't human. The skull is too tall, resembling a deformed egg. The eye sockets are wide to the point of partial overlap, but no eyes are visible. The nose seems to have been cut off, showing up as fish-like nose slits except wider. The mouth is an empty circular hole in the bottom of its face, and just like the eyes there is nothing visible inside. The creature has no hair, being entirely bald.

It's by far the most severe mutation Chrom has seen on _any_ of the prisoners. You can't even tell that this thing used to be human. Maybe it _wasn't_ human. Who's to say his father only captured humans? Apparently he had to obtain a wendigo, so who knows what else he has.

The creatures moans again, and takes a step backwards away from the Shepherds into the darkness, becoming invisible in the shadows. Kellam steps forwards, waving his torch, but there's nothing there. The thing has vanished.

"Shadowstep…" Miriel murmurs with a frown. She raises her voice. "We need more torches! Light up every section of the prison!"

"No one go alone!" Chrom adds. He trusts Miriel knows what she's doing. "We need to find that thing and take it out! Call as soon as you see it!"

Lissa rushes to heal wounds as Stahl and Sully move to get more torches. Reflet slinks back to the group with her claws dripping black blood, Chrom offers her a rag to clean them, and she accepts.

Cornering the prisoner takes longer than it should. The Shepherds quickly figure out it can teleport between shadows, provided it can totally hide itself in them. It actively snuffs out any torches the Shepherds leave unattended, creating zones of shadow it can use to ambush them.

Miriel, after much wracking of her mind, eventually identifies the creature as a nightwalker. From her knowledge, this must be a rather young specimen considering there have been some nightwalkers recorded to be over twenty meters tall compared to this creature's mere three (about ten feet tall).

Reflet ends up dueling with the nightwalker the most, purely for the fact that she doesn't carry any torches on her. By the end of the hour it takes to kill the nightwalker, she is splattered all over with inky black blood, making her look like Chrom's mental image of a serial killer from all the stains on her clothes.

After an hour of paranoia, constant re-lighting of torches, and surprise attacks, the nightwalker lies dead on the floor through the combined efforts of the Shepherds, with Frederick dealing the finishing blow. The nightwalker is just as disturbing to look upon in death as in life, barely resembling any sort of natural creature.

Chrom is just thankful it never thought to teleport _out_ of the prison, even if that meant it spent an hour trying to kill them.

"So…" Reflet murmurs, again wiping her claws on the rag. "I hope that's sufficient proof of my relative trustworthiness?"

"Yes." Chrom sighs. "It is. You still require a thorough mental and medical inspection, but we'll see about arranging your return to Plegia."

"Thank you…"

In the madness that was the fight against the nightwalker, some of the prisoners that _were_ alive are now dead, killed by the nightwalker during it's rampage. Only three total emerge from the prison alive, including Robin, Reflet, and a white-haired, white-skinned, comatose woman who was in one of the first cells that Stahl is currently carrying out.

Having made sure nothing else in the dungeon was alive, Chrom gives orders to first servant he sees to have the dungeon barricaded with five feet of stone, so that no one can ever see or use it again.

He doesn't care if some knowledge may be gained from studying the corpses or the sigils. Chrom thinks the dungeon, and all its contents, are best left forgotten. No one, not even Miriel, disagrees.

* * *

 **Again, this was purely self-indulgent. We'll return to second generation replacement next chapter.**

* * *

 **bwburke94** **:** It's the usual last name I use for the Ylissian royal family, it just doesn't come up much.

Fixed.

 **Bakururu** **:** Indeed she is a bit reckless. I gave her some shades of her father's personality.

Lucina's and Laurent's support conversations is about Laurent helping Lucina readjust after an injury, and about how he helps the entire army, and Owain's and Cynthia's is about what actions a hero ought to take, and Owain's dramatic storytelling.

 **HamClad :** Thank you! I was worried it wouldn't go over well when I wrote it at first.


	29. Second Generation Replacement 3

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **Been occupied with Three Houses (and writing stories for Three Houses) as you might expect. So my usual rotation of stories is going to be moving a bit slowly for a month or two.**

 **Anyhow, here we go. Chapter 3.**

* * *

"Who are _you_?" Severa asks suspiciously.

"A gift!" The boy says with a winning smile. "I'm Inigo in case you were wondering. One of Khan Lon'qu's _best_ warriors, and his _son_. You might say I'm a prince!"

"But you're not." The grim-faced Khan next to him says curtly. He looks to Lucina, who is eyeing Inigo warily. "Pardon his manners. He is a better warrior than he is a speaker."

"Ouch Dad…"

"Father."

" _Dad._ " Inigo repeats slowly, drawing the word out.

"I rest my case." Lon'qu says dryly. "However, at the very least his sword can be of use to you. Consider him my contribution to the war."

"Your help is… appreciated." Lucina says cautiously. "And you, Inigo, what say you about this?"

"Getting to travel with three lovely ladies? How could I ever say no?" The boy says with a grin.

"Lucina..." Severa says in a warning tone. She's making it very clear she does _not_ want to deal with Inigo."

"We'll accept your son's service." Lucina says to Lon'qu, deciding to ignore Inigo for now. "Thank you, Khan."

"Feel free to smack him if he gets out of hand." Lon'qu says dryly. "Or discipline him."

"Noted."

"Come on Dad…" Inigo says pleadingly, glancing back at an annoyed Severa. "Don't give them permission for that!"

"Behave yourself, then you'll never have cause to fear punishment." The Khan says with a hint of a smirk on his face. "Otherwise, the consequences are on your head."

Inigo grumbles under his breath, but doesn't seem all that surprised.

###

"Ah, you're back." Aesir greets as the Shepherds step into the throne room. The boy stands up from his throne, and carefully steps down to meet them while using his staff to make sure he doesn't trip on the stairs he can't see. "I got the letter. The pact with Ferox will help immensely. You have done well cousin."

"Thank you." Lucina says with a smile.

"However, I'm afraid there is to be no rest for you." Aesir murmurs. "I have another mission for you."

"What is it?" Marc asks curiously.

"There has been a skirmish with Plegia near the Main Border Pass." The Exalt conveys. He pulls a letter out of his robes, and holds it out for someone to take. Lucina does so, and starts reading. "Apparently, some so-called bandits raided a border town in Themis, and Duchess Maribelle was captured while trying to deal with them."

"Of course Ma would rush out. She's got no chill…" Brady mutters under his breath.

"I smell foul play." Lucina mutters. She hands the letter to Morgan. It doesn't say much beyond what Aesir is telling them. "Those bandits are likely Plegian soldiers."

"Most likely." Aesir agrees. "Duke Ricken even claims that Duchess Maribelle was not captured by those bandits at all, but was instead taken at the border while pursuing them by proper Plegian soldiers."

"So that they can _technically_ claim that she was trespassing, even though they instigated this fight." Marc sneers. "Of course."

"I hope to resolve this diplomatically… but I would like the Shepherds to come as protection. I am not so naive as to think this is not likely to end in violence." Aesir murmurs.

"Of course. We will escort and protect you." Lucina nods firmly. "When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow morning, sunup." Aesir says. "Make sure you're all rested and ready. It will be a long journey."

"I should be saying that to you." Lucina chuckles. "You're hardly known for your endurance, cousin."

"Well, I'll be in a carriage for exactly that reason." He coughs in embarrassment. "Brady, you're welcome to join me."

"Hell no! I'm gonna walk on my own!"

"Until you get exhausted and we have to _carry_ you into the carriage, right?" Severa asks dyly.

"No." The boy huffs. "I'm marchin' all the way!"

"Right… just like Kjelle will actually crack a smile."

Everyone turns to look at the knight, who gives them all a flat, unamused glare in return. "No, I won't."

"See?" Severa huffs. "You have no chance Brady."

"Ah, fuck you…" The boy grumbles. "I'll get there eventually."

"That's what you said last time, and the time before that, and that, and that, and that, and-"

"It takes a while alright!?" He growls.

"Anyhow." Aesir coughs. "Be prepared."

"We will." Lucina nods. She waves behind her at Inigo. "In other news however, we have a new member. The west Khan saw fit to contribute to the cause. This is Inigo, his son."

"Hello there!" Inigo says with a winning smile, and extends his hand. "A _pleasure_ I'm sure, perhaps you'd care for tea some time?"

"Uh…" Morgan says, and pokes Inigo in the shoulder. He puts his mouth to the boy's ear and whispers. "Aesir's a boy, in case you didn't know."

"Oh… _oh_ …" Inigo blinks.

Aesir just smiles. He grasps around, finding Inigo's hand, and shakes. How he knew Inigo had extended hand in the first place is beyond the others. "Perhaps if I have time, but I am quite busy. I'm honored to make your acquaintance."

"Ah, okay." Inigo coughs. " _Rejected, even when it's not a girl. I really have no luck…_ "

###

"I see something!" Cynthia calls out from atop her pegasus. "Bandits, one o'clock! It looks like they're chasing someone. An Anna I think!"

The hills and trees obscure everyone else's vision of the event, but they take the girl's word for it. "Shepherds, form up!" Lucina barks. Everyone falls in either beside her or behind her, drawing weapons. To her surprise, Aesir steps out of the carriage he's riding in, hefting his staff. "Erm, cousin, it may be best if you-"

"I'll be joining you." The boy says firmly. "It is rare I get the chance to personally help others. I won't pass up this opportunity, and I trust your ability to keep me safe."

Morgan and Marc share a look, and nod. They can manage that. It's just bandits, and an extra healer is hardly a bad thing.

The Shepherds quickly march towards the bandits with Cynthia leading the way, leaving the caravan to wait for them to finish. Aesir keeps a hand on Brady's shoulder as they walk so as to not lose his way.

"What's out situation Cynthia?" Marc barks.

"There are old ruins. The Anna is in the middle of them, dodging around the bandits." Cythia reports. "She's surrounded though."

"Go on ahead! Stay safe, but try to help!" Marc orders. "Look out for archers!"

"Got it!" The girl soon vanishes over the treetops. The others don't need her guidance anymore though, they can see ruins up ahead. They can even see a few bandits roaming around. The front line of the Shepherds rush forwards to engage, and the battle begins properly.

Bandits are standard fare for the Shepherds, but that doesn't mean they aren't dangerous. The group is still cautious to not take disadvantageous fights, or let themselves get outnumbered by too significant a margin.

The only exception is Kjelle, who may as well be invincible for all the damage the bandits' weapons do to her.

"Where is the Anna?" Aesir asks calmly.

"Over… there!" Morgan shouts. Realizing Aesir can't see where he's pointing, he tries to find another way to describe it. "Uh… at your eleven o'clock, between a bunch of buildings, Cynthia is flying over her."

"Understood." The Exalt raises his staff, and the orb at the top glows for a moment. A second later it flashes, and suddenly there's a red-headed girl with a steel sword standing next to him. "Ah, good, it worked."

Morgan just blinks in surprise. He didn't figure Aesir could even use a rescue spell with his blindness. Apparently that's not true at all.

"What the- oh, hi!" The redhead says. "Have you all come to rescue me?"

"Indeed we have." Aesir murmurs. "Are you alright? You seemed to be in a bit of a hard spot."

"I'm fine now!" She says with a winning smile (not that Aesir can see it). "I guess I owe you one! Who am I writing out a note too?"

"We're not charging you."

"I'm asking your name cutie."

"Ah, I am Aesir." He says, and gives her a polite bow. "A pleasure. And you?"

"Annabeth. Or just Anna if you want, seeing as that's what the rest of my family goes by." She offers.

"Guys, we still have a battle going on here!" Morgan shouts back at them.

"Ah, of course. If you'll excuse me…" He says politely to Annabeth, and then turns back to the Shepherds.

"No need, I'm not backing out now." The girl says, and moves to join the frontline. "These brutes owe me for all the trouble."

The fight was already a bit of a pushover, so having Annabeth's help makes it a curb-stomp. With the bandits eradicated, the Shepherds return to the convoy… with Annabeth in tow.

"Hey, travelling is getting pretty dangerous. You'll be headed back to Ylisstol soon anyways, right? I'll just tag along. I'll stay out of your way in the meantime, but hey… I've got some wares to sell, maybe I could even be of some help, hmm?" the girl offers with a cheeky smile.

Aesir just smiles and allows it. He seems intrigued and entertained by the merchant, and even asks for a horse to ride so that he can continue to talk with the girl as they travel.

Severa thinks he's got a crush. Lucina just suspects he doesn't get out on his own a lot, and is just enjoying a conversation with someone who _doesn't_ know he's the Exalt who can talk to him about life outside the capital.

###

"Oh, the Exalt himself? In all his radiance?" Queen Aversa sneers. "I fear I must shield my eyes! I didn't think you'd come out little boy, you surprise me."

"How could I not, knowing you'd want to see me?" Aesir says, and gives her a polite bow. "It's quite an honor to meet you, your Highness."

"An honor? You mock me." She scoffs. "After your duchess so _rudely_ trespassed on Plegian soil, all you can say is that it's an honor?"

"I assure you that this is a misunderstanding." Aesir says calmly. "And regardless of the circumstances, meeting yourself is no less of an honor."

Aversa sneers. "A misunderstanding you claim? Of course you'd pretend this is not your fault. You Ylissians are too _pure_ to do anything wrong, aren't you?"

"I claim nothing of the sort." Aesir murmurs. "Is Duchess Maribelle alright?"

"Oh, she's _fine_." Aversa huffs. She waves to a few of her subordinates, who pull a tied-up Maribelle forward. The tall blonde-haired woman is standing upright with a haughty look on her face. Even somewhat dirty and disheveled, she looks proud, noble, and stubborn as ever.

"Hands off you troglodytes!" The duchess snaps. She tosses her hair a bit, and sneers down her nose at the men guarding her. "I'll not have your hands dirtying my dress. It is worth far more than all of you combined."

Ricken, who they picked up along the way, tenses visibly. His fingers whiten around the arcwind tome he's holding. Brady, who's standing next to him, is also obviously tense about seeing his mother in Plegian hands.

"Even after a few days in a cell, this _angel_ still hasn't gotten off her high horse." Aversa sighs. "You really should train your underlings _boy_. They're liable to cause a diplomatic incident."

"We could say the same." Severa mutters under her breath. "Keep your soldiers on your side of the border, bitch. The disguises aren't fooling anyone."

Aesir clearly hears, judging by the momentary thinning of his lips, but he doesn't reprimand Severa. He keeps talking to Aversa. "Be that as it may, I have faith in Duchess Maribelle's good intentions. I have heard she was chasing off bandits, at which point she may have accidentally crossed your border. If that is the case, I apologize, though I must implore you to refrain from such overreactions as immediate detainment without warning, especially when the border is not marked and therefore hard to discern."

"You would _scold_ the queen of Plegia?" Aversa hisses.

"No. I merely suggest a policy update. After all, your current policies are quite unforgiving. We have a mutual enemy in bandits, we need not be so strict towards each other. A bit of cooperation could be mutually beneficial, especially if our soldiers could cooperate in quelling the ban-"

"Plegia does not _have_ a bandit issue." Aversa denies (despite Aesir knowing this is _very_ much not true. Plegia suffers from many more _actual_ bandits, rather than soldiers disguised as them). "We will not slacken our security so that you Ylissians can run rampant on the border."

Aesir sighs, but doesn't seem surprised. "Very well. However, if this misunderstanding has been cleared up, I ask only for the safe return of duchess Maribelle."

"You have no right to ask for such a thing." Aversa sneers. "Plegia demands recompense!"

"What sort of recompense would you ask of Ylisse?" Aesir asks calmly.

"The fire emblem."

The Exalt raises an eyebrow. "Our national treasure? Your Highness, that is a very steep price…"

"Hopefully that will teach Ylisse not to ignore our border." Aversa scoffs.

"Yes, well… I obviously cannot give up such a thing. Something more _reasonable_ , perhaps-"

"No, I want the fire emblem, _now_!" The lady snaps.

"I refuse." Aesir replies simply.

"Then you won't get your duchess back." Aversa threatens.

"Is that what you think?" The boy says calmly. "Well, you can believe what you wish. Good day your Highness." He bows to the queen, turns on his heel, and calmly walks away.

"Cousin-" Lucina whispers.

"Lucina." Aesir says quietly, cutting the girl off. "Please prepare the Shepherds for combat. I doubt they will take kindly to out next act."

The princess sets about ordering her companions to form up once more. Once they're in place. Aesir raises his staff once again without bothering to turn back. There's a familiar glow, and a second later Maribelle is no longer on the hill next to Aversa, and is instead standing amidst the Ylissian army.

As Aversa erupts into curses and orders, Aesir calmly keeps marching into the protection of the Ylissian ranks with a somewhat smug smile on his face. "Honestly, no one is ever prepared for rescue staves. It really makes things too easy sometimes…"

* * *

 **Meh, this is a fine chapter. Not much to say.**

* * *

 **Dandaman5** **:** That chapter was sorta based off the idea of the SCPs. They're fun.

 **Kweh Viola** **:** Really? I hadn't thought of it in those terms.

 **Guardian54** **:** And a few other points too. I fixed it.

Assuming another story is ever told in that world, maybe.


	30. Second Generation Replacement 4

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **Okay, let's keep on keeping on.**

* * *

"I expected you to be more worried." Lucina admits. "But you seem rather unphased by all this."

"Do I appear so? Good. We don't want the public worrying." Aesir says calmly.

"You're not actually calm?"

"Oh Naga, no. I just started a war." The boy says with obvious feigned cheer. "I am panicking thank you very much."

"Ah." That makes much more sense. "Have you sent a message to Narna asking for Feroxi aid yet?"

"Yes, that was the first thing I did." Aesir affirms. "Incidentally… I have a new mission for the Shepherds."

"What would you have us do?"

"A preliminary strike. The Plegians will not be expecting it so quickly, considering we are known to have an underwhelming military in current times."

"What is our target?" Lucina asks cautiously. "The Shepherds are powerful, but not invincible. Our objectives must still be chosen with care."

"I am well aware." Aesir reassures. "I wish you to take Fort Striker. The majority of the Plegian army is massed around the central border pass, and scouts report seeing only a skeleton crew. Even if you can't hold the fort, taking it will force the Plegian army to come deal with the situation, slowing down their advance."

Lucina can get behind that plan. Fort Striker is in a strange position of potentially being a very important location, blocking the shortest distance between Ylisse's borders and the capital, but the Fey Jungle being directly in that path means it seldom gets any action despite its potential strategic value. She'll need to consult with Laurent, Marc, and Morgan on the best way to approach the fort, but it seems plausible. "Understood."

"That said… please don't go through the jungle. Go around it. The Shepherds coming out of this alive is much more important than taking the fort."

"Oh, we'll come out alive." Lucina smirks. "No guarantees we won't go through the jungle though."

"I was afraid you'd say that…"

###

"Plegia. Of course it had to be Plegia." The girl mutters as she picks herself out of the sand. "And now it's boiling too. I'd forgotten that the old world is a lot hotter, apparently deserts are a _bitch_..."

The grey-haired girl picks herself up out of the sand, which trails off her red metal armor in small streams. She checks her equipment, making sure she has her silver axe, her waterskin, her rations, and other miscellaneous equipment.

"Okay, that's… ah fuck. Noam? Noam!" She calls out, looking all around her. Of course there's no one there. She's on her own for as far as she can see. "Tiki above, I thought I had a good grip. Stupid portals."

All she can do is hope Noam and the others made it through alright, landed somewhere not deadly, and found somewhere where they can survive until they're found.

So what does she do? What's her goal? Ylisstol probably. Right. That means going east. She has to get through the Plegian desert to get out, and who knows how long that will take? Who knows how far she is in the past either!? She could have jumped forty years back for all she knows. It's not like Tiki specified an exact time they'd be sent to.

"Ugh. Magic…" The girl grumbles. "I can't just sit around twiddling my thumbs. I'll just go for Ylisstol. Hopefully I didn't arrive during one of the wars or something."

She shoulders her backpack, glares at the sun, and starts marching off to the east in hopes of finding _something_ , hopefully a village, before night falls. Of course, how villagers would react to a girl in heavy metal armor stomping out of the desert is anyone's guess, but she'll cross that bridge when she gets to it.

###

"We are _not_ going through the jungle." Laurent says flatly.

"Boo…" Cynthia huffs. "Come on! This might be our only chance! Morgan? Marc? You're with me, right?"

"As cool as it would be… that's probably a bad idea." Morgan says reluctantly.

"Too risky." Marc agrees. "If the talk of killer plants are true, we should steer clear. Last thing we need is to trip upon a hangman tree or an alraune and lose someone."

"But then we'd just come to a daring rescue!" Owain cries. "Owain Dark and Cynthia the Bold would come swooping in on pegasus back, and slay the foul monster with one swing of our blades!"

"You're going to kill a _tree_ with a sword and lance?" Laurent asks dryly. His voice oozes sarcasm. " _Ingenious_. I'm surprised I never considered that. Clearly you're the superior tactician here."

"Okay, so maybe that's not the _best_ plan…" Owain huffs, slightly embarrassed. "But we could burn it or something, or cut the vines."

"No."

"Fine…"

Up at the front of the group Lucina sighs quietly. She was hoping Owain could convince them to go through the jungle. Of course, Laurent and the twins probably know best, but Lucina can't deny she was hoping to get a look at the Fey Jungle herself. Maybe they could even find one of the dire animals still said to live there. Maybe a dire bear! It's been too long since Lucina has had bear meat.

"Not needing to visit _the_ most dangerous places in the known world is hardly something to be disappointed about. You need your priorities straight." Laurent scolds.

" _The_ most dangerous?" Marc asks, her interest piqued. "Why so? What's next on the danger list? _Is_ there a danger list?"

"Yes, there is a 'danger list' as you put it." Laurent sighs. "My mother compiled it during her travels. The Fey Jungle easily tops that list… though only if we are taking each location as a whole, and not simply parts of it. If we are taking certain parts of entire locations, the lower levels of the Titan Sinkhole are easily just as, if not _more_ dangerous than the Fey Jungle."

"Woah…"

"The _upper_ levels of the Titan Sinkhole are third on the list. Second goes to the so-called Dead Swamp near Plegia's west coast." Laurent continues. "Not dead in that there is no life, but dead in that everything is eerily still. Mother claims that branches do not rustle in the wind, water moves so slowly as to not make noise, and most water is still water even then. Insects do not drone, animals do not cry, and they move as quietly as possible lest they give away their positions. Most things are grey, brown, or faded green. You can hear your own breathing there. Mother even claims, at times, she could hear her own heartbeat because of how quiet it was…"

"Cool." Morgan says in hushed awe.

"Indeed. I'll admit, I hope to visit these places myself someday. Not now, with no preparation and so much at stake… but I'd like to finish the studies she never got around to." Laurent murmurs.

"Why can't she finish them?" Marc prods.

"She doesn't have the constitution for it anymore." Laurent says quietly. "A well-placed curse during the last Ylisse-Plegia war sapped her of her vitality. She lives, but she could hardly take a harsh journey anymore, nor the harsh conditions of living in such a dangerous environment. Merely a long day's work teaching can be harsh on her, and there is little physical activity involved in that."

"Ah." Marc mumbles. She didn't mean to poke a sensitive subject. Laurent doesn't seem _too_ broken up about it, but Marc still feels bad about bringing it up.

"Anyhow." Laurent says after a moment. "Those are the three most dangerous places in the known world, all located in Plegia mind you. Though I suppose the Fey Jungle is _technically_ contested territory as it is on Ylisse and Plegia's border and neither has managed to claim it."

"Does your mom have other lists too!?" Morgan asks eagerly.

"Dozens." Laurent nods. "What are you interested in?"

"Uh… most dangerous creatures! Not just animals or whatever. Intelligent things too!"

"Ah, well in that case you will have to make a distinction. Are we talking most dangerous on a large scale or a personal scale? That changes the answer quite drastically. The most dangerous being to a nation and the most dangerous to an individual are surprisingly different." Laurent explains. "Well, the first and second place slots are always the same. But beyond that it's different."

"What are the first two!?" Owain asks eagerly. Indeed, _most_ of the Shepherds are now eagerly listening to hear this list. Even Kjelle, who is trying her hardest not to look interested, is noticeably angling her head to hear the conversation better.

" _Gods, we really are teenagers._ " Lucina chuckles to herself. Even _she's_ listening in on this. "Just list the top ten of each list or something!"

"Top ten lists? Oh, what mother's knowledge is being reduced to…" Laurent sighs. He's smiling though. Clearly he's not worried, just poking fun at the rest of them. "Well, let's see. First and second place, in no particular order mind you because mother is unsure which qualifies as most dangerous, go to full-blooded dragons and arcanomoths."

"Arcano-whats?" Morgan frowns. "I've never heard of those."

"Few people have. Unlike full dragons, like Naga, there has been no signs of an arcanomoth existing in centuries. The last known sighting of one is merely a _rumor_ by an adventurer who claimed to see one in the lower levels of the Titan Sinkhole." Laurent explains.

"That's cool and all." Morgan says. "But I mean, what _are_ they?"

"Well… we're unsure." Laurent admits. "There are no skeletons to study, and very few drawings or tales to go off. Mother believes they exist, but she hasn't dismissed the possibility they are simply a folk tale. Best we can tell, they fall into the category of demi-human, usually have skins colored anywhere from blue to red, are slightly smaller than humans, and have wings of some sort coming out of their backs. According to that adventurer I mentioned, the wings are magic and not traditional wings at all. Their magical power is supposedly immense, outclassing dragons by a _wide_ margin, but at the cost of physical frailty."

"Interesting…" Marc mutters.

"Keep going already! Gods." Severa huffs.

Laurent rolls his eyes, but does so. "For large scale threats giant wyrms come in third, though thankfully they seem to be extinct in our time. Greater elementals are fourth, and need to be purposefully summoned so again they are rare. Star heralds are fifth, rotbringers are sixth; both have not seen in many, _many_ years, thankfully. A nightwalker is probably seventh, though I am speaking of particularly powerful individuals here, the ones that can summon shadows and blot out the sun with their presence. It's a bit more uncertain after that. Eighth, ninth, and tenth could go to several things. A balor probably takes one of those spots, as does a true angel. A powerful lich could probably be tenth, but, again, it's a bit uncertain at this point."

"Wow, I never thought I'd hear a lich being at the _bottom_ of one of these lists…" Cynthia murmurs.

"To be fair, it is _highly_ unlikely for the world to ever see anything above the eighth slot more than once a _millenia_." Laurent reminds her. "In terms of what someone could _realistically_ encounter, and even then it's highly rare, a balor is about as strong as it gets."

"Right."

"Now." Laurent says. "As for _personal_ threats, there's a bit of a different philosophy. Sure, I could list everything that kills you really fast, but those aren't actually the biggest dangers to a person."

"They're not?" Kjelle frowns.

"There's much worse that can happen to you than simply being killed." Laurent says quietly. "The beings on this list are terrifying partially for the ease in which they can kill you, but also either the horrible way they do that, and the near impossibility of trying to fight back. Dragons and arcanomoths still take the first two slots. They have enough raw magical power, curses, and ability to ruin the world to still warrant being the biggest threats. The next three on the list, however, are there for very similar reasons, though there is a specific order to them. Care to guess?"

"Ooh, ooh!" Cynthia says excitedly, holding up her hand. "Wendigos!"

"Mind flayers!" Owain jumps in.

"That's sixth." Laurent chuckles, pointing to Owain. "Anyone else?"

"Hmm…" Lucina hums. Something that was physically dangerous, but much more _mentally_ so? "A pact demon."

"Interesting choice, but no."

"Slime!" Kjelle barks.

"Also no. They're a bit too _stupid_ to be high on the list."

"I think I know." Inigo says confidently. "A succubus!"

"Seriously Inigo?" Severa growls. "Stop fooling around."

"Actually, he's right." Laurent says, much to the surprise of everyone else. Succubi, nymphs, and sirens take the third, fourth, and fifth slots, and in that order."

"No way." Brady grunts. "That seems stupid."

"At first, yes, but consider this…" Laurent says, and folds his arms. "A being where mere physical contact could render you under their control permanently. On top of that, they can lure you in effortlessly thanks to their seduction magic, but can also manipulate everyone around to be perfectly alright with the situation. They can paralyze, put you to sleep, emotionally manipulate, mind control, or various other things with a touch, not to mention vitality draining."

"Ah, I understand." Lucina nods. "A being that can manipulate you however it pleases, and you'll _willingly_ go along with it while being none the wiser, probably trusting that person more than anyone else."

"Other creatures can kill you just fine, but succubi and similar creatures can ruin lives and relationships like nothing else." Laurent nods. "So, anyhow… succubi third, nymphs fourth, sirens fifth. Sixth Owain already guessed: mind flayers. Seventh goes to alraunes for being possibly the most efficient human-killers out there. They're specialized specifically to kill _people_. Not quite to the extent of succubi, because they're not active hunters, but they are still predators to humans."

"It's weird to think there's creatures out there that are evolved to kill _humans_ specifically." Brady shudders.

"Agreed." Kjelle mutters.

"Anyhow, eight nine and ten are underwhelming compared to the rest of the list." Laurent admits. "Gazers (which are a unique variant of cyclops that can sprout eyestalks and have magic gaze attacks), devourers, and changelings fill out the last three slots."

"What are devourers?" Marc frowns.

"You really don't want to know." Laurent grimaces. "They're… disturbing… and thankfully the conditions for one to be created are quite hard to facilitate. All you need to know is that they're a particularly nasty type of undead."

"Fun." Cynthia murmurs with a grimace.

"Quite the opposite in fact." Laurent sighs. "Anyhow, there's your lists. Don't go trying to fight any of those things on your own if you can avoid it… or just avoid those things in general."

"Noted." Kjelle grunts affirmatively.

There's quiet for a few minutes of quiet with that conversation being over. It doesn't last for long though.

"So, uh… we've still got a few hours of travel today." Owain says slowly. "How many more lists do you have?"

* * *

 **This was a weird filler chapter. Whatever. It's out. Moving on.**

* * *

 **Dandaman5** **:** There are SCP tales on the SCP wiki. Stories made about the SCPs. Consider looking there.

 **B1ackAshes** **:** Not going to address every single review, but I'll try to touch on the ones where I can say something relevant in response.

(2) There's so many chapters for VA and TRV that I wish I could continue, but I can't continue all of them or I'd never get through them all. That's part of the reason for these collections in the first place, so I can at least get the ideas out there rather than _never_ being able to use any of them.

(3) Pokemon in Fire Emblem was perhaps a bit over-ambitious on my part. That's part of why each character only has one pokemon, as it already doubles the number of effective characters in the story. There was so much I planned for that story that just had to be scrapped because it would take too long.

(7) This was far and above one of the most enjoyable chapters to write. If it wasn't obvious, I'm quite partial to succubi. They make for entertaining stories of characters struggling with morality, necessity, and just plain embarrassment. Laurent was chosen partially just because I like that pairing, but also because he's more social than Gerome. Having an anti-social deuteragonist would make the story about Lucina just being _able_ to feed because he's always trying to avoid her rather than a struggle about the _morality_ of it. Gerome would barely interact with the succubus aspect of Lucina because the problem is socializing in the first place. Not that there's a problem with that per say, it's just not what I was going for.

(17) I was unsure how to deal with this idea at first. It really was the main character choice that allowed me to understand how to work with giant characters. My first drafts tried to use Robin and Tharja, but it really didn't work. I couldn't wrap my head around how to make a good story out of it. Noire was the answer to that, and Brady was a good lesson for me on how to write _other_ people reacting to giant characters. It helped that I felt comfortable writing those two to begin with.

(19) Tharja… I have strong opinions on her. I intentionally write her differently in my stories than she actually is in-game. I make her less creepy and generally nicer, and turn the 'abusive parent' aspect of her future self into something she _doesn't_ do intentionally in the present (as well as giving a reason for it in the future. Not that the reason makes it in any way okay, just that there's an actual reason now).

(20) Fair enough. If the story isn't your style, that's fine. I have my own preferences when I read too.

(28) We'll see. It was meant as a one-off even more so than other chapters, mostly just to show off the dungeon I keep mentioning in chapters of _The Robin Variable_ because I never actually explain it there. That said, if what you wanted was the Shepherds dealing with darker elements of the world… I might be able to oblige that.


	31. Self Insert 2

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **Doing the self-insert thing was fun, and some people seemed to like it, so here's chapter two.**

* * *

"Huh…"

"You look like you're having second thoughts." Morgan notes.

"I am."

"Well, we're a bit too deep to back out."

"I know." I mumble. My grip tenses on my axe, and I take a deep breath. "We actually found them… whoo… okay…"

"You weren't actually expecting to find the slavers, were you?"

"Not really." I say. "Can you blame me?"

"Well... no. The chance of us finding the slavers in the _first_ day of search is miniscule. We got stupid lucky… or unluckly, depending on your opinion." Morgan mutters.

"Right, so, traps. Or freeing captives. One of the two, or both. Um… how? You're the tactician."

Morgan snorts. "First we have to just lay low and observe. Note guard patterns, avenues of attack, maybe wait for them to go out to set up a trap and/or free some captives…"

"Right… okay…" I say tensely. "So, how are we going to hide exactly? Do we put leaves over ourselves or something?

"Of course not. We're going to climb a tree."

"Oh, of _course_ , why didn't I think of that?" I laugh nervously.

"Because _I'm_ the tactician here." Morgan quips in return. "Come on. They're all busy eating. This is the perfect time to find a place to hide out."

As it turns out, the plan _isn't_ to find the tallest tree around. That would be too obvious. Morgan says we need a tall tree, yes, but it's more important that the boughs are thick than anything, so it's hard to see in. Granted, it will be hard to see out too, but it's more important that we remain unseen than that we can see everything.

It's not too hard. We find a good tree and clamber up to the middle branches. It's cramped and uncomfortable, but... it's a _tree_ , what was I expecting? It fits our needs, and that'll have to be good enough.

Sitting in a tree for hours on end is mind-numbing. This is the first proper taste of anything close to military life I've gotten, and it _sucks ass_. I'm constantly worried because we're only several dozen meters away from the border of the enemy encampment, and also constantly bored because I'm sitting in a goddamn _tree_ for hours on end, unable to do anything but watch, listen, and sometimes whisper to Morgan.

I really had no idea what I was getting into. I regret this already. At the same time though, if Noire really _is_ here… then this is worth it. I hate this, but it will be worth it.

And if Noire isn't here then at least we (hopefully) get to help people. I can't say I'll feel nearly as good about it, but from an objective standpoint at least it'll be worthwhile. From an emotional standpoint, not as much.

Huh, that sounds really petty. I mean, it _is_ really petty, but am I wrong to feel that way? It's natural to be more attached, and feel it's more worthwhile when things involve people you know and care about. Doing the right thing is ignoring that feeling and doing what's _objectively_ right, I think.

You know what, this is a bad time to get philosophical. It's hard not to let my thoughts wander though. I'm in a _tree_. I can't state that enough. I'm sitting in a _tree_ , and I can't possibly be expected to focus for multiple hours on end. Or can I? I don't know. How do soldiers deal with this shit?

"Stop fidgeting Nathan."

"Sorry."

"Just calm down, it's only been an hour, you're going to emotionally exhaust yourself."

"Only an hour?"

"Yep."

"Oh God..."

###

I've never been one for meditation, but it ends up being the only thing I can really do to pass the time. Morgan is doing most of the monitoring. She actually knows what to look for, and has a far better memory than me. My observations over the last hour have been banal and rather useless. Morgan has been polite in her responses, but I got the feeling I wasn't helpful so I just stopped mentioning things.

What was I talking about? Right, meditation.

I don't really get meditation for the most part. I understand it conceptually, but it don't know how much of it you need to do for it to start having an effect. It's probably one of those things you need to do frequently to see results I imagine. However, at the moment, it's the only thing I can do, so I do.

Well, I _try_ , and then I start getting distracted by story ideas. I'm a writer (fanfiction writer, not a proper writer… yet) so I'm always eager to find a new idea for a story. Story ideas occupied most of my thoughts whenever I wasn't doing anything in particular, and now ends up being no exception. Some of those ideas are old ideas, one's that will never see the light of day, but that I still hold dear. Some are newer, that I like a lot, but I've never managed to write in a way that satisfied me. Some ideas are new as of this day, and mostly centered around stealth narratives, or Morgan.

You know what, I should probably get rid of the ideas involving Morgan. It would be rude to imagine random things about someone who actually exists… assuming this isn't a coma. I'm still not discounting that idea by the way!

My thoughts are just a mess now. Ugh. It's hard to _not_ think of something. I'm still bored too, despite my imagination trying to supply a distraction. I really should learn to meditate. It's supposedly good for you, and you can supposedly do it anywhere.

I hear Morgan scribble something in her notes, so I glance up at her. The girl's eyes are fixed on something in the slavers' camp, so I try to figure out what she's looking at. I've barely been paying-

"Noire." I whisper suddenly. The slaves have been brought out into somewhere we can see for something. I think it's dinner time for them. "Oh wow, she's actually here. Okay…"

"Noire? Who's that?"

"Uh… she's like you. Dimension hopper. Without amnesia though."

"Oh." Morgan blinks. "Uh, cool. I meant _which_ _one_ though."

"Oops, uh..." I mumble, and squint. "Black hair, pale skin, tattered green clothes, young adult, female, busty."

"Ah, got it. I see her." Morgan nods. "I take it we should free her first?"

"Probably. She can use a bow, and is at least a somewhat experienced fighter." I whisper. " _Of course, that's assuming my knowledge from the game is mostly accurate._ "

"We don't have a bow."

"Indeed we don't." I grimace. "Hopefully we can find one then. Unless you know how to make a bow?"

"Nope."

"Right, so… find one. Or maybe Noire can make one herself if we can free her. Heck, we could probably just give her a sword, and she'll still be more useful than any other given slave because she has actual combat experience."

I don't actually know that, but Noire is the only one there that I can _almost_ guarantee knows how to fight. The others, mostly young girls, I don't imagine have combat experience.

Wow, that's sexist of me. I just realized that. This world is based off medieval times, so I _imagine_ it's true (and I am going to keep going on those assumptions for now), but I should probably check the norms of this world when I get the chance. Maybe this world is totally equal.

I doubt that, pegasus knights and fighters were gender-locked in the game, so by that measure the sexes shouldn't be equal here, but a person can hope.

"I can see why the slavers would take her. She's a looker." Morgan notes. "Hmm… uh… hey…"

"What?"

"So, you have a bunch of knowledge about the world and stuff, right?"

"Right…?"

"So, you have some sort of scrying ability or ability to tell the past, right?"

"Erm… not exactly. It's complicated."

"It doesn't matter what exactly it is." Morgan says. She sounds a bit rushed, _worried_. "What do you know about Noire's enslavement? Or just the enslavement of these girls in general?"

"Not much. I just knew Noire would be found around slavers."

"Okay… okay…" Morgan murmurs, taking a deep breath.

"What's wrong?" I ask quietly.

"Nothing."

"Clearly something is. Spill."

"I just- How fast do we need to be?" Morgan asks in a rush. "Think about it, right? Attractive young women, _slaves_ , surrounded by a bunch of amoral men?"

"Oh." I blink. " _Oh_. Okay. I get the picture."

This is a lot darker than the game. Wow, okay, yeah, that _would_ be a worry. That is a _huge_ worry. Holy shit.

"We can't be hasty." I say nervously. "But… God, I wish we had an army right now."

"I know, right?" Morgan mutters. Her hand tightens on her notebook. "But we can't do _anything_ until some of them leave."

" _So this is what it's like to feel powerless._ " I think, grimacing. " _Not something I ever wanted to feel, but here I am._ "

It's hard to keep my eyes off Noire after that. I hate the twisting in my gut I feel when the slaves are taken back inside the ruins, where we can't see that they're alright.

I hope we get an opening soon. I want Noire, and the rest of the slaves, _out_.

###

The logical part of my brain says that a large division of the slavers leaving probably means they're going on another raid, which is certainly a bad thing, but the emotional part of my brain is overjoyed at the thought we might be able to actually do something to help the captives here right now… which is still a good thing I suppose.

However, five against two is not great odds, especially when one of those five is a bow knight, so we have to be careful about this. It's just reaching sundown, so we can't just grab slaves and go. There's no way we'll navigate safely in the dark with people on our trail. This just became a silent takedown mission. We need to take out the five guards, free the slaves, and then go. We should have a few hours, which is plenty of time, because I doubt that raid is going to be _super_ fast, and they have to travel to whatever village they're heading for in the first place, _and_ they have to travel back here…

So yeah, we should have time. Probably. Hopefully.

"Plan?" I ask in a whisper.

"Kill things." Morgan replies cheekily. "Pick of the patrolling guards one by one, and then we can take on the two guarding the ruins proper."

"Okay." I mumble. I take a long, deep breath. "Okay. Just point me in the right direction."

"We still need to wait a moment, we need to see how the guards are going to patrol."

"Right, right, right."

The wait is agonizing. We watch the three guards slowly patrol around the edge of their camp. An obvious problem presents itself in that the camp isn't _particularly_ large, so it's rare that they're out of each other's view.

"We need somewhere we can get an unnoticed kill, at least for a few moments." I whisper. "Maybe just as someone comes around the side of one of the ruins?"

"Maybe." Morgan mutters. "We'd have to get in position without being noticed though."

"Well…" I say slowly. "Maybe not."

"How so?"

"Only one of them looks like they have a bow. If we can take him out, then your range advantage might be enough to deal with the rest of them."

" _Might_ be." Morgan whispers. "Though that is a good point. There isn't necessarily going to be a clean way to deal with this."

"Hmm…" I frown. My mind flicks between a few other locations and a few crappy plans before settling on… "Hey, I have another idea."

"What?"

"I look like a brigand, right?"

"Yeah…?"

"So, what if I were to just walk up to them, and say I'm new. Maybe I went off to take a piss or something and came back to everyone being gone." I offer. "I might be able to distract one or two of them so you can shoot 'em in the back."

"That's risky…"

"Yes, but what plan do we have that _isn't_ risky?"

"True." Morgan grimaces. She's not exactly _happy_ about that fact, but it's a fact nonetheless. "I don't want you walking into danger like that though."

"Choose the logically best plan, ignore your emotions." I murmur. "What do we do?"

"Aaugh…" Morgan groans. "Okay, fine. Go be a distraction. I'll blast them from behind. Don't die."

"That's the plan… or at least I hope it is." I mutter as I cautiously climb down the tree. Morgan clambers after me, and is notably more nimble than myself.

I wait a moment so Morgan can put some distance between herself and me, take another deep breath, and saunter towards the camp.

"Hey!" I bark to one of the guards, trying to sound as gruff as I can. "Where the fuck did everyone go!?"

"Who the fuck are you!?" The guard shouts back.

"I'm Garnef!" I say, using the first name that comes to mind… which just happens to be an old fire emblem villain. Well, too late to change that now. "The new guy? Remember?" I frown. "Goddamnit, why can't you guys ever remember me?"

Honestly, considering I haven't been _stabbed_ yet, I think this is going fairly well. Refuge in audacity for the win?

"How the hell did you miss the raid!?" The guard shouts.

"No one told me about it!"

"And you missed everyone leavin' too?!"

"I was taking a piss!"

"For _ten_ mintues!?"

"I have _problems_ alright!?"

At this point the other guards have come over to see what the commotion is about. One of them looks suspicious, but the other is smirking in amusement. Better yet, they're standing right next to each other.

" _Any second now Morgan…_ " I think while crossing my arms. " _Light 'em up_."

The girl doesn't disappoint. A fireball comes roaring out of the trees and engulfs the two spectating guards. It doesn't kill them instantly, but it does make them scream in pain and fall to the floor.

I make the split second-decision to whirl around in Morgan's direction and pull out my axe. I'm not going to attack her, obviously, but I don't want the bandit near me taking a chunk out of me. I've never fought a proper battle in my life, so I'm going for deception rather than combat.

It pays off too. The person I was talking to runs right past me in a bit to get to Morgan, and I bury my axe in his back as he runs by.

Morgan calmly walks in and finishes off the three guards with swift flicks of her sword. "Three down. Well acted by the way."

"Thanks." I don't agree with that statement at all, I did terribly, but this isn't the time to debate. There's still two more to go. Hopefully we can take them out just as smoothly, but they certainly know we're coming. "So… how are we going to deal with the ruins? They know we're coming."

"Good point." She frowns while looking at the ruined building. "Hmm… okay, _I_ have a plan this time."

"Shoot."

"Shoot?"

"Uh, go ahead."

"Just boost me up onto the roof. I'll shoot them from there. They'll probably be expecting us to come in the front." Morgan suggests.

That's… really smart. "Okay, but we need to be quiet."

We move as quietly as possible around the back of the building, which is eerily silent. I expected the two remaining guards to be shouting threats or something. Maybe they're hiding behind the door, ready for an ambush.

Well the joke is on them then.

Morgan is quite light (or maybe it's just because I'm stronger than I was in my old body), so it's easy to boost her up to where she needs to be. Immediately after I can hear some screams, some female, two male, and the crackle of fire.

I hope Morgan has good accuracy.

I run over the entrance, axe out, and cautiously step inside. I sigh in relief when I see the two remaining guards burning to a crisp on the floor.

Wow, that sounds really morbid. I'm on a roll today.

Morgan, again, finishes off the slavers with quick licks of her sword after she jumps from the roof down to the floor.

"Nice shooting." I praise. My nose wrinkles. "Bad smell though."

"Oh, sorry, just let me get out my _scentless_ fire tome." Morgan huffs.

I turn my eyes to the surprisingly large number of people, mostly young women, crammed into these ruins. That group we saw brought out before must not have been all of them. There's… uh…

"Four dozen. Geeze. They probably outnumber the slavers." Morgan mutters.

We each search one of the two guards. I find the key ring (and some gold, score) and hold it up. "Here we go."

At this point I also notice how _quiet_ the room is. You think with four dozen people in the ruins there would be _some_ noise aside from me fiddling with the keys.

I move to Noire first, and try the various keys in the lock on her shackles. To break the weird silence, I start talking. "You alright?"

"U-Umm…" She blinks, apparently surprised I'm talking to her. "Not great?"

"Well, that's fair enough." I cringe. That was a bad question. "How long have you been with these people?"

"About a week." She responds.

"Well, today's the end of that." I say firmly. I finally find the right key, and her shackles pop open. "There we go."

Noire shakily stands up. I try not to stare. It's weird to see her up close. Mostly I'm surprised how well the in-game art translates to real life. I mean, her face is marred by dirt and her black hair is knotted and awful, but she's still totally identifiable despite that.

"Hey Morg."

"Yeah?"

"One of those guys outside had a bow, right?"

"Yeah!"

"Grab it for Noire. Arrows too."

"Ah, good idea." She turns in place and runs out of the ruins. Noire blinks in shock.

"You… know my name?" She whispers.

"Yep. Hi. I'm Nathan." I extend my hand for a shake. She eyes me warily for a moment, then accepts the gesture. "So, uh, we have no idea when the other slavers will be back, so if we need some extra defence you might need to shoot some fools, okay?"

"S-Sure."

"You probably won't have to, but better safe than sorry." I shrug. I then turn my attention to the rest of the slaves, and start opening their shackles one by one.

###

It takes three times as long to get back to the village as it did to get to the slaver camp. Part of that is the slowness of the freed slaves, and part of it is the fact it's pitch dark out and _very_ cold. A few people have torches, some at the front and at the back, but we have to frequently pause to help up someone who stumbled and is having trouble getting up.

We _do_ make it back to the village though. We stumble in at… I don't know the time. I don't have a watch. It doesn't matter. We go knocking on some doors, irritating the residents, but when they see what we've brought with us they immediately jump into action. Soon the whole village is abuzz preparing food and finding extra blankets.

Mogan is useful in directing the chaos, but I don't have much to offer. So, instead, I sit at the side with Noire, talking to her.

"So, basically, me and Morgan are heading for Ylisse." I explain in a hushed voice. "She's a dimension hopper like you. Different, but similar, circumstances. We want to find the Shepherds. I presume you do too?"

"Th-That would be nice." Noire agrees. "I can come with you?"

"Of course. The more the merrier… and it will be safer anyhow. You know how to fight after all. More protection is always good." I shrug. I eye her for a moment, noting her tattered clothes. "Though we'll have to get you a new outfit first."

"I-It's fine, really. I can manage with this."

"Yeah, no. There's no way you're surviving without any warm clothes." I huff. "Besides, do you _really_ want to be walking around in something skimpy like that?"

Noire suddenly seems to realize her tattered clothing is showing perhaps a bit too much skin, and covers herself with her hands as best she can with an embarrassed squeak. I snort in amusement. It's probably inappropriate to be amused by this, but this whole day has been surreal enough that I'm having a hard time telling how I'm _supposed_ to react.

"Are you really laughing at a girl about the fact that she has terrible clothes from being a _slave_?" Morgan asks as she wanders over to us.

"Maybe." I say. I guess I technically am. Now that she says it out loud it sounds awful.

Morgan shakes her head, but she's smiling. "You're lucky you can get away with that."

"I've gotten away with a _lot_ more than I ever expected to in the last few days." I shrug. It's true, I would have never imagined I would share a bed with Morgan (innocently, but still), or really just any of the physical closeness I've gotten away with over the last few days.

"It has to be your natural charm."

"You're mocking me, aren't you?"

"Eh, half and half." Morgan shrugs. "I mean, your social awareness is… not great. But it's that exact thing that lets you get away with this, cuz I'm pretty sure Noire here picked up on that right away." She glances at Noire. "Didn't you?"

"Yeah, s-sorta." The girl mumbles.

I feel slightly disappointed and embarrassed upon hearing that.

"I wonder what the villagers are going to think though. You've picked up yet another young girl…" Morgan teases.

"You do realize I'm only nominally in charge of this group, right?" I respond dryly. "Besides, Noire is probably fairly close in age to me."

"I-I'm twenty…"

"See? One year. Barely anything." I huff. Morgan rolls her eyes. "And I hardly 'picked her up'. It was basically a given she would come with us. After all, you're a future kid too."

"You're no fun." The tactician sighs.

###

"I-I don't have to join you do I?" Noire mumbles.

Morgan frowns. "No, why would you- oh. Nathan!"

"Yeah?"

" _Two_ rooms!"

"Oh, right." I blink. Me and Morgan actually never bothered to get separate rooms after the first night. It was partially to save money, because while Morgan has a lot of gold she doesn't have an infinite amount, but it was mostly because we just couldn't be _bothered_ to change it.

Yes, just because we were _lazy_ , we never got separate rooms… but now that Noire is here I suppose we have to.

"We'll get _two_ rooms." I emphasize.

The tavern keeper rolls his eyes in amusement. He got to hear the whole conversation, and has been smirking the whole time. "Take the room next to yours."

Morgan pays for the other room and we all go upstairs. Noire immediately gets changed out of her tattered clothes into the new ones we bought for her.

There's something I've noticed about Noire… she tends to just _stare_ at me and Morgan sometimes and I have no idea why, or if something in particular brings it on. It happens again when we're having dinner. As it turns out, simple potato chips exist in this world (thin potato slices covered in vegetables oil then cooked in an oven), so I've been ordering those every single night. Morgan has been stealing some every single night, so whenever she does I take forkfulls of her main meal (usual chicken) as retribution.

For some reason this is stare-worthy for Noire, because she stares whenever this happens. I don't get what's so unusual.

"So, erm, I meant to ask." I say after fending off another theft attempt by Morgan. "Noire, who's your father?"

"My father?"

"Yeah."

"Why just him?" Morgan asks curiously. "Why not ask about _both_ of her parents?"

"I already know her mother."

"You do?"

"Yep. Tharja."

"It's pronounced thar-ya." Noire corrects in a mumble. "Bu-But yes, she's my mother. How did you know?"

"I have outside knowledge." I shrug.

Noire doesn't exactly seem satisfied with that explanation, but she doesn't push further. "Okay… my dad is Gaius."

Gaius huh? The hair color didn't pass down. I guess that's just a game mechanic.

"Wh-What about you?" She asks Morgan. "Why are your parents?"

"Robin!" Morgan chirps.

"Oh." Noire waits a moment, frowns, then prompts. "And…?"

"Dunno!"

"Oh." She looks at me. I shrug. I don't know either.

Noire ends the meal looking dissatisfied. Not with the food, but with me and Morgan. I think she's frustrated she shared a lot about herself and we barely shared anything. Well, I suppose Morgan has an excuse with her amnesia. I'm just being obtuse so as to not weird out my companions from claiming to be from a technologically-advanced magic-deprived other universe where they're characters in a game.

That might not go over so well.

###

I wake up with Morgan's face mashed against my cheek and her body on top of mine. The girl really does roll in her sleep. I'm surprised it didn't wake me up. I wait for a few moments, squinting against the sun sneaking through the ratty curtain, to see if she'll wake up. When it's clear she won't on her own I poke her in the cheek, _repeatedly_ , until she does.

"Whuuuut?" She mumbles. Her eyes crack open to gaze blearily at me.

"Muhahaha, you're mine now girl!" I say flatly, not bothering with the appropriate inflection. "Take off your coat… or something like that."

Morgan pauses for a second, then snorts in amusement at the callback and pushes herself up. "Nice."

"Did I meet your expectations this time?" I asks cheekily.

"With that monotone voice? No way." She replies as she rubs sleep from her eyes. "We were gonna leave today right?"

"I think so."

"You _think_ so?"

"You're the one who usually keeps track of this stuff. Sue me." I shrug, and sit up myself.

"What would you do without me?" Morgan teases.

"Die in a ditch probably. Freeze, starve, one of the two."

"Wow, the _confidence_ on you in unbelievable." She drawls sarcastically. "Don't give yourself _too_ much credit there. I might accuse you of having a positive self-image."

"I'll take realistic over positive."

"But that was neither."

"I disagree."

"And you're wrong." She steps out of bed, stretches, and grabs her coat. "Ugh… okay, let's wake Noire, grab breakfast, see if our stuff is ready, and get gone."

"Sounds like a plan." I yawn. I watch her find her boots (which she tossed aside last night), frown upon seeing her hair, and reach a hand out to correct the _mess_ on her head. "You need a comb."

"Says you."

"Says me." I agree. "And probably Noire if we asked her."

"Oh really?"

"Really."

"Well thanks fashion guru." She snorts. "I'll keep that in mind."

"No you won't. You'll 'forget' immediately." I retort. "Won't you?"

"Guilty as charged." She responds unabashedly. She huffs when I run my fingers through her hair, trying to straighten it. "Come on, it's not that bad!"

"You look like you let a family of crows use your hair for a nest."

"That's… a very specific look."

" _Your_ look. Because you don't have a comb."

"Well _excuse_ my past probably dimension-hopping self from a horrible future for not considering a _comb_ top priority." She pouts.

"Forgiven. I'm correcting that mistake now anyhow."

"Sure you are."

"You think I'm joking, but I'm not."

"Prove it." Morgan challenges.

"Fine." I put on my overclothes, snatch my wallet, and leave.

###

"Umm…" Noire says tentatively, glancing between us. "Am I missing something…?"

"A comb." I respond smugly.

"Proper priorities for our money." Morgan huffs with her arms crossed. "Oww…"

"You have tangles because you didn't clean your hair enough. Your fault." I scold as I work through another knot in her hair with the newly-purchased wooden comb in my hand. "Now sit still."

"I'm eating!" She complains.

"And I'm combing." I respond flatly. "Deal with it."

"It's a waste of our money." Morgan jabs.

" _My_ money. It's my choice."

"So what? _My_ money is group funds, but you can spend yours however you want?"

"No. But you're too nice to let us fend for ourselves, and frugal otherwise." I say with a triumphant smirk.

Morgan _glares_ , but she knows I'm right.

"Besides, it was only a couple copper. Basically nothing."

"Some people would kill for a couple copper."

"Some people would kill you for _breathing_ , but you don't seem worried about me wasting air." I respond cheekily. "You've lost Morgan. Accept it."

"I'm a master tactician, I never lose."

"A good tactician can't lie to themselves, otherwise they're accepting obviously false information." I reply evenly.

Morgan's eyes promise murder, Noire looks utterly confused, and I'm still smiling smugly. This is a good start to the day.

* * *

 **Morgan is very tolerant of Nathan's oddities. Nathan is also starting to diverge more and more from me into his own character, which I think is for the best.**

 **The entire first part with Nathan and Morgan investigating the slavers' camp felt… weird. Maybe that's because Nathan doesn't fit a combat protagonist archetype. I'll have to figure out how to work him into combat at some point if I'm continuing this.**

* * *

 **Dr. Cheese :** I'll put it on my list. We'll see. That's harder said than done. I'd have to get their dynamic right.


	32. Second Generation Replacement 5

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

* * *

The girl fiddles with her bow as she stands up top the battlements of the fort. She's happy to have such an unimportant location as her first assignment, but she still doesn't enjoy the thought that this is technically on the border.

She also doesn't enjoy the fact that she was conscripted, but she can't exactly do much about that. Her entire family got conscripted for this stupid war, but she's not a skilled dark mage like her mother. She's just an archer, and she's treated like one. At least this assignment is better than being on the frontlines.

That's not to say this assignment is _nice_ by any means. She's only relatively happy to have this assignment. She'd rather not be here at all. That's in no small part because she doesn't want to fight for Aversa, but also because she doesn't like the people she's working with.

As it turns out, being a woman in a place filled with men, especially men who are dangerously sure of their own machismo and haven't had female contact in a long time, isn't all that great. She hasn't had to shoot her own teammates… _yet_. She's come dangerously close though. Her whole "blood and thunder" routine has kept her safe so far, but she still gets obvious stares and leers.

Noire shudders. It's not because of the wind.

" _This wouldn't be so bad if I just had friends here._ " The girl thinks miserably. " _Or Mother, or Father._ "

Her father being here is impossible. He's probably on the other side of the war. That thought makes her stomach roil, and for a moment Noire thinks she's going to be sick. If she feels like this, she can only imagine what her mother is feeling. At least her father is on the _right_ side of the war, and not stuck fighting for a stupid cause for a stupid leader.

"Hey chick, time to switch." One of the other guards says as he saunters up to her. Noire hates his wide grin, his eyes that don't meet hers and instead focus on her chest, her legs…

She's tempted to kick him off the wall, but doesn't. Even if she knows he deserves it. She doesn't want to get into trouble.

"Blood and thunder!" She shouts instead, and contorts her face into a snarl. "I am no poultry, mortal! I am the blood and thunder! You will refer to me as such, or lose your tongue!"

"Sure girl." The soldier says, still leering. "Get going."

Noire does so. She tries to ignore where his gaze wanders as she walks away. She suppresses another shiver of disgust.

That disgust quickly turns to surprise, however, when she hears someone shouting across the fort. The shout is quickly echoed by others who hear it.

"Ylissians! We're under attack!" They shout. "Everyone to the east side!"

This is punctuated with shouts of "come on you slackers!" and "bows, get out your damn bows!" from the captain.

Noire rushes along the battlements around the fort, getting into position. They're actually under attack? Here of all places!? She doesn't want to die here, fighting a stupid war for a stupid cause for a stupid leader. No no no…

When she can finally see who she'll be fighting, she's surprised at how _few_ of them there are. There's only ten of them. Ten people attacking a fort, even a weakly defended one? They're either stupid, or _really_ good.

It quickly becomes apparent that they're the latter when a large fireball blows half a dozen of her fellow soldiers off the wall, and a well-placed lighting bolt nearly takes out her captain. The enemy infantry rush straight for the wall, headed by someone in heavy armor who uses her shield to block the arrows raining down on her. A pegasus knight soars high, just out of arrow range, waiting for the right moment to swoop down and strike someone vital.

Noire shoots at the mages, launching arrow after arrow. She has enough range, but the sheer distance means her arrows take a few seconds to land, so she's having trouble hitting them because they won't stop moving.

A monster fireball roars across the sands. The entrance to the fort explodes, and the fragments go up in flames. The enemy infantry breach the entrance and start clashing with the fort's soldiers. Noire turns her attention off the mages to shoot at the blue-haired girl smashing her way through everyone. She's clearly the biggest threat now.

She notches an arrow, aiming at the girl's head. It will be so easy. She just has to release it. A kill for Plegia. A kill for Aversa. A kill for the war she doesn't believe in.

Her fingers tremble on the bowstring. Does she…? Should she…? Can she…?

Noire's indecision costs her the chance to shoot. The enemy armor knight notices her, barks out a warning to the blue-haired girl, and lobs a javelin at Noire which forces her to dodge out of the way.

Plegian soldiers are falling all around. The mages haven't stopped shooting at them, and the Ylissian infantry are killing everything that comes into their reach.

" _I won't die for this._ " Noire thinks. Her eyes flick to the back of the fort, and over the wall. " _Can I get over there and down in time? But then I'm a deserter. I might be executed for that._ "

Paralyzed with indecision, Noire doesn't see the lightning bolt tossed her way. A flash of light, a burst of pain, and the girl's eyes roll back in her head. She's unconscious before she can even see that she's falling off the wall.

###

Noire wakes up with several people staring down at her. Not her teammates, the Ylissians.

"U-Ummm…" Noire squeaks. Her eyes glance to each of them, noting the weapons in their hands. "H-Hi?"

"Hello." A blue-haired girl says calmly. "We've healed you up, but you took quite the fall. Are you still injured?"

Noire tests her limbs, her neck, and her back. "I-I think so?"

"Good. Then you can answer questions." A girl in heavy armor growls.

"Kjelle." The blue-haired girl says sharply.

"She's an _enemy_ your highness." Kjelle growls.

"She didn't shoot me when she had the chance to." The blue girl reminds her companion.

"She was shooting at _us_ though!" A boy in a grimleal cloak chirps. "So I shot back!"

Noire doesn't know what to say here, but she feels like she should say _something_ to defend herself. "S-Sorry. I didn't exactly want this assignment."

"Really?" The blue girl seems intrigued. "Do tell."

"W-Well, I didn't want to be a part of the army in the first place. I got conscripted." Noire explains. "I'd much rather be on the other side of the war if I'm honest. I don't like Queen Aversa, she's just… _nasty_."

"A sensible Plegian. Miracles do happen." Kjelle snorts under her breath.

" _Kjelle_." The blue girl snaps. "If you can't control yourself, _leave_."

The knight frowns and takes a few steps back.

"Well, um…."

"Noire."

"Well Noire, you _are_ an enemy of ours." The blue girl says. "However, if you can provide us with some information, we'll grant you refugee status in Ylisse for the duration of the war so you don't have to fight. Is that agreeable?"

Agreeable? That's more than Noire could have hoped for! However… "U-Um, if you don't mind… I'd actually like to help you."

The blue girl raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"You have seen our _incredible_ skills and wish to learn from us, yes? Well, the great Owain will gladly aid you!" A blonde-haired boy cries.

"Why would you fight with us?" The blue girl questions.

"W-Well, I don't believe in Aversa's cause, and I have family in Ylisse as well." Noire explains. "And I have other reasons to want Ylisse to win. Father is a priest of Naga after all. Most Plegains don't like him, so if Plegia wins the war I'd be worried about him."

The girl thinks for a few seconds, then nods and offers Noire a hand. "That's acceptable. I'm Lucina. Welcome to the team."

"J-Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Noire can barely believe her luck.

###

That's an army. Ohh… okay… that's not good. Bad timing. At this point, the girl wishes she was sent another year back or so.

" _Which war is this though_?" She asks herself. " _Is it Exalt Chrom's crusade? Or Aesir's defence against Plegian aggression?_ "

One way or another, she needs to avoid that army. It's not easy in her heavy red armor which probably sticks out like a sore thumb. She'll have to give them a wide berth.

Frustrated, the girl turns to her left and starts marching. It's not the direction she wants to go, but putting distance between herself and the army is higher priority than moving closer to Ylisse. The waste of time isn't welcome though. She only has so many provisions, and every day she has to waste wandering this stupid desert is a day she's not trying to find a way to stop Grima, or Walhart, or finding Noam or any of her other companions.

The girl hears a shout, and she turns around for a moment just to make sure it's not directed at her. It's not, thankfully, but she picks up her pace anyways.

The heat beats down on her, cooking her body inside her metal armor. The slight openings in her armor are letting in sand, which gets into the clothes underneath as she walks. The old burns on her hands feel the irritation and heat particularly acutely. The worst off is her eyes though. The sand stings them, and the heat dries them. She blinks frequently to try and fix both of those problems, but that alone is hardly enough.

It worries her that she's been moving for days and hasn't found anyone she recognizes. Those portals must not have dropped us off close to each other.

" _Stupid inaccurate ancient ritual._ " The girl brushes some sand off her hip and off the head of her axe. She looks up at the sky in the direction she's walking. It's slightly windy already, and she thinks she can see something darkening the sky in front of her. A sandstorm possibly. She's going to be wading right through that. " _Well, at least the army won't want to deal with that. I can use it to make progress without worrying about them_."

The fact that a sandstorm might be a reason to _stop_ for awhile doesn't even occur to her. She's going to move on, come hell or high… sand.

She grabs her canteen, unscrews the top with a practiced motion despite her heavy gauntlets, removes her helmet, and chugs once before slamming the top back on and shoving the canteen back into place. She then reaches back into her backpack and pulls out a rag. She ties it around her face, leaving only a slit for her eyes, before putting the helmet back on overtop. Hopefully that will keep most of the sand out, even if her head is going to boil in the heat.

With muffled stomps through the sand, the girl marches towards the sandstorm, leaving the army behind her.

* * *

 **TwilightSymphonycat** **:** Ah, good. The problem with SIs (from my limited knowledge) is that they can be rather bland if handled poorly, so Nathan being his own character is a good sign. I could recommend one or two other SI stories if you're interested.

 **Mark Desphy** **:** :D

 **mangopies :** Indeed. I'll note it down.


	33. Second Generation Replacement 6

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Three Houses, all rights to the owners.**

* * *

"Did we have orders beyond taking the fort?" Severa asks as she and Lucina patrol the battlements. "Seriously, what are we doing here? Are we pushing deeper, holding out for help? What?"

"We are simply to serve as a distraction." Lucina replies calmly. "If the Plegian army approaches, we flee, and have pulled resources away from proper entrances into Ylisse. If not, we harass the area to punish Plegia for ignoring us."

"But in the meantime we just sit here?"

"Yes." Lucina says. "We may be here a while Severa, or perhaps only a few days. It all depends on the Plegian response."

"Ugh…"

"Sorry Severa. This is the reality of war." Lucina says. "However, we may get some action in the meantime. It is not unlikely small patrols or messengers will stop by this fort on their way elsewhere. We can kill patrols as they arrive, and get information out of the messengers."

"Fun." Severa grumbles sarcastically. "Gods, there's probably not even a clothier nearby…"

Lucina resists the urge to roll her eyes. She likes Severa, she really does, but the girl is beyond petty sometimes. "There are other things to do."

"Like what?" Severa huffs. "Kick around sand? Woo-hoo, _yay_."

"You could get to know some of your new teammates. Practice your swordsmanship. Maybe take up a new hobby like whittling."

"Ugh…" Severa repeats. "I _guess_ I could try and talk with Noire…"

"There is more than Noire. You haven't spoken much with Inigo-"

"No."

"Severa, he-"

" _No_."

Lucina sighs. "Alright. Do as you will. I hope you give Inigo a chance at some point though."

"When pigs fly."

"I'll hold you to that."

###

A few days in the fort see the start of a routine for the Shepherds. Some of them handle the boredom better than others.

Severa is easily coping the worst. She grew tired of talking to Noire very quickly, and has sought other ways to entertain herself. She goes on short-range scouting missions a lot of the time just so she can _do_ something.

Morgan has taken to training with Kjelle. It's almost laughable watching him struggle to lift a large rock while the girl effortlessly hefts whole bags of them. Still, they seem to be getting along much better than they used to, which Lucina is quite happy about.

Inigo is coping with the boredom by way of his usual behaviour: really bad flirting. All the girls in the fort have turned him down, Lucina included, so instead he turned to the boys just to have company of _any_ sort. Laurent occasionally indulges him, but otherwise spends much of his time in the captain's quarters making plans, backup plans, and backup backup plans.

Marc doesn't do much. She (and her brother) sometimes help Laurent with planning, but otherwise Marc lazes about watching lizards crawl up the walls of the fort and occasionally practices her swordplay.

Brady is clearly taken with Noire. Lucina can't take credit for this discovery, that goes to Severa (who somehow figured it out despite rarely being at the fort). He spends nearly every waking moment talking with her… and Noire seems fine with it, _comfortable_ even. That's good as far as Lucina cares. Being basically a traitor to her own nation, Noire's position in the Shepherds must seem (and _is_ admittedly) tentative, and she has to know that and be nervous about it.

Owain and Cynthia get up to their usual dramatic nonsense. Lucina swears they could stay entertained if they were locked in a stone room for two months. The Justice Cabal has its uses.

Lucina has been doing a bit of everything. Some planning with Laurent, some scouting, some talking to Noire, some training with Kjelle, and even entertaining Inigo… _once_. She's starting to feel the boredom herself though. She's a girl of action, and sitting around in a fort ill suits her.

Still, it wouldn't be right to wish for trouble. She'll tolerate the boredom if it means no one has to die.

###

" _Ooh. Okay. This is… somewhere. Yeah, definitely somewhere._ " The girl nods to herself. An old somewhere, a stone somewhere, with water somewhere, cold somewhere. Old, stone, water, cold somewhere. A temple she thinks. Probably. Maybe.

It doesn't look like Naga's old temple though. Or, at least, not the one she was just at a few seconds ago. Or should she say "the one she was just at two decades in the future?" Hmm… time travel. Or, well, dimension hopping technically. Complicated stuff.

" _Great, uh… so I don't know where I am, and no one's around._ " She pauses. Or maybe…? "Soner!? Velox? Sami! Ventiel! Seraph!"

She waits for a few moments as her voice echoes through the temple. No response. Okay, that's about what she expected. It would be too much to ask for everyone to land in the same place.

Well that sucks. At least she still has her tome. That would have been really bad. The last thing she needs is someone getting ahold of BANG.

Yes, she named her personal tome BANG. She was considering BOOM, but BANG is more accurate to the sound it makes. Aliud suggested something like "Inferno", which is cool and all, but she wanted to make up the name herself. So BANG it is!

She also has her elthunder, for an attack less likely to destroy whatever building she happens to be in, and also her mend staff.

"Let's see. Weapons, staff, dagger, other dagger, books, quill case…" She mumbles as she roots about in her longcoat. "Okay, I have everything… except an idea of where I am and where I'm going. That would help."

She wanders the temple, trying to find a way out. She finds a few things of interest, like a bunch of large wheels in one room that look like you could hook animals up to them. She has no idea what those are for. This doesn't look like a grinder. She also finds a small gem. It's gold and shiny, and slightly wet to the touch. Weird. She puts it in her pocket. Maybe it's important.

When she finds the exit of the temple the girl immediately shudders from the increased chill. There's _snow_ outside. This must be Ferox. Okay, that's something. At least she's not in Plegia. Plegia would suck. She also knows _sorta_ where to go: south. Maybe east too. It depends on where in Ferox she is. She could be on the far west coast for all she knows.

Welp. No time like the present. She better get walking.

###

Aesir sets down the tea set at the table and pours two cups. He hands one to the girl sitting across the table, and takes the other for himself.

"You really don't have anything better to be doing, do you?" The girl asks with a smirk. "Exalt of Ylisse, having casual tea during wartime."

"I wish that were so." The exalt sighs. "But no, I had to fight to get this free time. If it were up to my advisors, I would still be working at the moment. Unfortunately for them, I am _not_ a golem."

"Ah, so I _am_ special." The girl says with a confident grin. "Always nice to see that confirmed."

"Humble too, apparently." Aesir smiles.

"Of course."

"I'll be honest, I'm surprised you haven't tried to sell me something yet."

"Oh?" Annabeth raises an eyebrow, smirking. "I see you understand Annas."

"Are you not one?"

"No, I am. I pride myself on being a bit more _subtle_ than the rest of my family though. Greed is more useful when it's subtle."

Aesir shakes his head, amused. "Do tell."

"Don't shove products in someone's face like a common street vendor. That's a great way to make people look down on you as an annoying asshole!" Annabeth says cheerily. "And that's part of the reason some people don't like Annas. No, what you have to do is be nice, chat them up, _don't act like a vendor at first_. People instantly distrust you if they realize that. You can reveal that you're a vendor eventually, but not right away. You gotta play the long game."

"Ah, I see." The exalt nods. "So that's your intent with me. Play nice, then sell me things."

Annabeth blinks once, twice. Then grins. "Ah, so that's your plan with this little tea party. You wanted to discern my intent. This wasn't about relaxing at all."

"Guilty as charged." Aesir admits. "A merchant staying around royalty? Very suspicious."

"Hey, you're the one who rescued _me_."

"I wouldn't put it past an Anna to take advantage of that." Aesir replies calmly. "Your family's bad reputation precedes them unfortunately. My apologies for the deception, but I cannot be too cautious as ruler of Ylisse. With that out of the way, however, we can properly enjoy our tea."

* * *

 **Transition chapter. Just pushing a few things along. Not much to see here.**

* * *

 **d8rkforcen1ght7** **:** Sorry to disappoint.

 **Guest** **:** Agreed.

 **maridus :** Yeah, that was my thought too. I know crossbows are in some Fire Emblem games, but I know from history that when crossbows exist they tend to be the default weapon of archers rather than bows (because of their ease of use), which Fire Emblem _never_ does. I think maybe Awakening doesn't have crossbows because they never show up. Maybe Nathan will have to help someone invent them.


	34. Quirky Snippets

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **Testing out some ideas for a potential new story (Merely Shepherds 2.0) down the line.** **Disconnected and probably unrelated segments. Quirkverse. Those of you who read** _ **The Robin Variable**_ **might be able to identify some of these quirks, but not all of them are things I've done.**

* * *

"Geeze Metal, don't you ever sleep?"

"Metal? Is that what you've dubbed me?" Frederick asks as he stokes the fire once more. The flames reflects off the other man's usual plaything, a gold coin, as it flares up. "I'll thank you to keep your nicknames to others, thief."

"Ah, you hypocrite. Telling me to lay off the nicknames but giving me one? I see you there…" Gaius smirks as he flicks his coin in the air. He takes a few steps closer to the fire, casting some light across his face. His eyes are obscured by a visor of reflective glass, which bounce back the firelight shining into them.

"Nickname? I speak the truth." Frederick huffs. "Would you prefer a different moniker, _demon_?"

"No need to get snippy Metal." Gaius says in a low voice. He drops onto a log across the campfire from the knight. He doesn't stop flipping his coin. "I was just asking a question. Being _polite_. Aren't you all about that?"

"That was polite? I hate to consider what your definition of improper is." Frederik snorts.

"That's more true than you could ever believe." Gaius says with a smile. Even with his eyes obscured, the smile is obviously false. "But that's no fun to think about. I was just being curious. You don't seem to sleep, I want to know why. If you're so reluctant to explain, we can trade, make a _deal_ …"

Frederick grimaces. "You think me a fool?"

"Stubborn? Yes. Foolish? Nope." Gaius says honestly.

"Yet you try and bait me into a deal anyways." The knight growls.

"Bait you? Pal, If I _really_ wanted to force you into a deal I'd be a lot more subtle about it… and probably use blackmail." The man says. "Or I'd just get Lissa to make a deal with me, or Chrom, and then make a deal with _you_ because you'd do _anything_ to prevent them from suffering the consequences of a poorly thought-out deal."

Frederick's glower could not possibly get any more intense. Gaius smirks triumphantly.

"You know it's true. Those two are _way_ too trusting. It wouldn't even be hard." The thief says. "So if I wanted to screw you with a deal, I'd be doing it some other way. _Trust me_."

"No."

It's hard to tell if Gaius rolls his eyes or not with the visor in the way, but he probably does. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Aren't Blue and Bubbles always harping on about cooperation and getting to know each other and whatnot though?"

"Cooperation, yes. Getting to know the other is encouraged, but _optional_." Frederick says firmly.

"Ouch. Way to stab at my heart Metal." Gaius sighs. He stands back up and dusts off his pants. "I guess I'm not welcome here then. I'll join some other campfire."

"Please do."

###

"Here you go Milord."

"Thank you Maribelle."

Chrom blows on his tea, debating if he should try to drink some. Deciding it's probably too hot, he only takes a small sip, just to not offend Maribelle.

"I appreciate your consideration, but it's really unnecessary. Tea is as much a ritual as it is for drinking." Maribelle murmurs. She drops some sugar into her drink and stirs it. "Unless you want to burn your mouth, I suggest you don't drink at the moment."

"Of course, of course." Chrom says, pretending he knew that the whole time.

"Milord, you're not fooling anyone, least of all me."

"Uh- right." Chrom says sheepishly. He momentarily glances away from the noblewoman's mirror-like eyes, then back. He always forgets she can read minds with eye contact. You think the Themisia's family's carefully guarded ritual granting that very specific power would be something he remembers, but no, Chrom always forgets she can do that.

"It's not that I 'can do that', I can't _not_ read the mind of those who make eye-contact." Maribelle corrects calmly. "Really Milord, it is unbecoming of a prince to be so forgetful."

"Sorry…" Chrom sips his drink to cover the awkwardness, and grimaces at the heat. Still too hot. "So, erm… why did you want to talk to me?"

"Robin."

The prince nearly spits out his drink. "Ah, erm, has she done something wrong?"

"You know very well that's not what I mean, though I _could_ list a few things." Maribelle sighs. "No, I am not talking about her actions. I'm talking about _yours_ Milord. Mostly how much of a fool you've been making of yourself."

"A fool?" Chrom frowns. "Perhaps I've been a bit awkward, but a fool?"

"Yes." Maribelle says bluntly. "A fool. You allow her to make a fool of you by getting so easily flustered by every little flirt, and you alternatively avoid her like the plague or stick to her like glue. If you could kindly make up your mind if you intend to court her or not, everyone, and I mean _everyone_ , would appreciate it."

"Everyone…?"

"Well, I think my dear Lissa finds your foolishness amusing, but otherwise yes… or were you asking if everyone knew? We all figured it out a while ago Milord." Maribelle replies dryly. "You're not subtle, and while Robin hides her true self well she is not so good that she never slips… though I'm fairly sure that's intentional when it does happen."

Chrom firmly looks away and doesn't comment. His gold eyes linger on the tea in his hands. The teacup actually matches his skin color well, both being platinum.

"I'm glad we had this talk." Maribelle smirks. She grabs a small plate and offers it to the man. "Biscuit?"

###

"Having trouble there?" Robin says with a smug grin.

"Shut it!" Sully growls as she struggles under the weight of the logs she's carrying. "You have no place to talk! You're not even using your arms!"

Robin shrugs. Her hair, purple and three meters long, holds up four logs (two on either side of her) like a pair of giant hands, and is otherwise flared out like a peacock's feathers behind her. It makes her appear much larger than she actually is, which is not very. She may have a few inches on Nowi, but that's not saying much. "Wasn't Vaike supposed to be helping out with this?"

"Yeah, but that dumbass went and burned himself out. Used his hyper-watsit boost to try and beat Chrom in sparring and ran flat out of energy."

"Hyper adrenaline rush." Robin says, remembering what Miriel called it. "Did he win?"

"No. Chrom wore him out over time. Weird moment of strategy for the guy actually. Just kept backing away in a circle, letting Vaike waste all of his strength hitting empty air."

Robin tries not to look too proud. _She_ suggested that plan to Chrom for his next match with Vaike. Apparently it worked. "I'll have to congratulate him on actually using his brain."

Sully snorts. "I don't believe he actually came up with that on his own to be honest."

Robin smirks again. "You don't say?"

"Yeah, I- ah, it was totally you, wasn't it?"

"Maybe."

Sully shakes her head. "Shoulda figured… did you just tell him that, or dance him around in your own sparring session?"

"Both. I dragged him around in a match, _then_ explained it when he didn't get the point I was trying to make." Robin chuckles. In truth, she can hardly claim that they spar at all. All their matches are hilariously one-sided in Robin's favor to the point it's not really a battle so much as Robin toying with Chrom until she _decides_ to win. There's not even a semblance of a contest or fair fight when that happens. It's quite fun… for Robin at least.

"I haven't ever seen you two spar now that I think of it…"

Robin hums indifferently. "Yep."

"You don't intend to let me, do you?"

"Not really."

"What, is there some _special_ thing you two do?"

"Maybe."

Sully huffs in annoyance. "Fine, keep your secrets."

"I will." Robin says, smirking.

###

The wind whips up into small gale, pulling leaves and small sticks up from the ground into a small ball at the source.

Ricken holds his hand up high, pulling in all the surrounding debris into an orb above his head. A green orb of wind magic, pulling in sticks, leaves, and whatever else is light enough to be pulled by the suction. He holds the spell for a long as he can, then points off into a direction where there is no one to be seen, and releases it.

The force of the spell release knocks him off his feet. A loud "boom!" sounds as all the condensed air and debris fires off like a cannon in the direction Ricken released it. It kicks up grass and dirt, knocks over small plants, and startles a number of birds and critters.

Ricken lies on his back for a few seconds, making sure he released enough mana and won't have to do this again tomorrow. Content that he let enough out, the boy sits up.

"That was quite big blast!" A male voice appraises. "Gregor is impressed! Is little magic man showing off?"

"I'm only little _for now_." Ricken grumbles. "And no, I'm not 'showing off'. I have to do that."

"Excuses if Gregor is doubtful."

"It's true!" Ricken protests. "You can asks the others, ask Miriel! I have a condition. My body generates more mana that it can safely contain, so I have to release some if I don't use enough naturally."

"Or else what? Little man will set self on fire?"

"No. I'll get violently ill… and _then_ maybe set myself on fire."

"Sound quite annoying to Gregor. Little mage always have to do this?"

"Every few days." Ricken sighs.

"Always doing big dramatic wind blast?"

"Yes. If I do fire or lightning, people tend to come running thinking we're under attack." The boy grumbles.

"Not to sound rude, but Gregor glad happen to you, not him."

Ricken narrows his eyes. "Gee, _thanks_."

###

"Pardon me, but I must enquire… how _do_ you see with that cloth over your eyes?" Miriel asks. "Are you using some sort of magic perhaps?"

"Nothing so fancy I'm afraid." The monk says with a polite smile. "Have you ever held a cloth so close to your face that you can see through the holes? That is all I'm doing."

"I see…" Miriel nods, and scribbles in a notebook. "And you do this to stop your gaze power, correct?"

"Indeed."

"So your ability relies relies on the other person making eye contact with yourself?"

"To an extent?" Libra frowns. "I'm afraid I've never tested… for obvious reasons I would hope."

"Quite." Miriel says, and pushes up her glasses. "However, if you would permit, I would like to study the specifics of your ability. It may help us in understanding the workings of _other_ such abilities, gaze-related or otherwise."

"I do not mind…" Libra says slowly. "But are you sure you wish to subject yourself to such a thing? There is a reason I keep my eyes covered."

"There is little I will not do in pursuit of science." Miriel says firmly. "Please, indulge me."

"As you wish." The monk agrees. "What would you have me do?"

"Remove your blindfold, and I will test several sorts of obstructions to your gaze to see what stops the effect." She instructs, removing a few objects from her robe. She also removes her glasses.

Sighing, Libra does so. He politely holds his eyes shut until he's given the order to open them. When Miriel instructs him to do so, he opens reluctantly.

Miriel, who has nothing blocking his gaze at the moment (likely as a baseline to the test), doesn't recoil immediately. Her whole body tenses up, her face contorts into a grimace, and her hands tremble, but she doesn't flinch or flee like most people would. Her mental fortitude is too strong for that.

Still, she visibly sags in relief when he pulls his gaze away. "I see, that is much more powerful than I was expecting. Truly fascinating…"

"You can see why I keep my eyes covered."

"Quite. Next, please focus your gaze on another point. I will look at your eyes while you look elsewhere, and then we will reverse. This is to see if mutual eye contact is necessary, or if it is dependent on one of us or the other."

The results are that the effects are reduced, regardless of who looks away and who stares. Miriel then tests with her glasses on, which makes no difference. The scientist then dons a reflective pair of glasses ("sunglasses" she calls them) which actually reduces the effect somewhat. _Him_ donning the sunglasses eliminates the effects entirely, likely because his eyes aren't visible.

Miriel tries a few other things, like holding up a bottle of water between the two of them so they look at each other through the distortion of the liquid, but nothing works quite as well as him wearing the sunglasses which, unfortunately, is not that different from him wearing his blindfold.

"However!" Miriel concludes. "This was quite productive! My thanks."

"You are welcome." Libra murmurs.

* * *

 **Just a few ideas lightly applied, mostly for my own benefit. Nonetheless I hope you enjoyed, or at least were intrigued.**


	35. Second Generation Replacement 7

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **This particular subseries has lost all steam it seems. It will take a few more chapters until I can pull everything together and end it (because there are still a number of child characters that need to be utilized), so hopefully I can wrap this up soon because there's clearly no interest but I refuse to leave it unfinished.**

* * *

At first Lucina thinks it might be a hallucination. A single, small red speck on the horizon. Maybe it's just a trick of the light. A red dot against the yellow sand could easily be explained away.

The thing is, the speck doesn't go away. It's getting closer. That's weird. So, Lucina does the smart thing and calls on Cynthia to go investigate it.

"Fly high." She warns. "Out of arrow range. We don't know who, or what, it is."

"Got it!" The girl salutes. She's clearly happy to have something, _anything_ , to do.

It doesn't take horribly long. Pegasi are fast, not as fast as wyverns, but fast. Five minutes there and five minutes back and Lucina has her report. Cynthia circled around the figure a few times and turns back.

"It's a person." Cynthia says. "They're in full plate armor. Kinda like great knight armor, not armor knight armor. All red, pretty worn. She's got a silver axe too."

"I see…" Lucina frowns. "Was her face familiar?"

"Nope."

"What design was the armor?"

"Uh…" Cynthia blanches. She's not an armor buff. "Not Ylissian I think… it was angular, mostly red, uh…"

"Sharp or curvey?"

"Sharp."

"Blocky chestpiece or sculpted?"

Cynthia clearly doesn't know what that means, and Lucina tries to find another way to explain.

"You know Uncle Frederick's armor?"

"Yes."

"That's sculpted."

"Oh, no, it wasn't like that. It was more like a… pentacube."

"You mean a dodecahedron?"

"Yes, that. I think there was a sigil on the front, but it's worn away."

"Valmese then." Lucina murmurs. "That's bizarre. Why would a valmese soldier be here of all places?"

"Maybe it's just a plegian soldier in Valmese armor?" Cynthia asks uncertainly.

"But then why just one? Unless this is some sort of elaborate deception?" The princess frowns. She's half talking to herself now. "This makes no sense…"

"I guess we just have to wait and ask her." Cynthia shrugs.

Lucina agrees reluctantly. This situation is too unprecedented to just throw around guesses. She'll wait for this girl to come to them, and then just hope she can figure the girl out when that happens.

###

A determined valmese girl who carries herself with conviction and unfailing confidence. The girl in red certainly strikes quite the figure in Lucina's eyes, even in her battered armor, covered with sand, and drenched in sweat.

"Princess Lucina!" The girl calls from the bottom of the fort, surprising the princess in question. The girl salutes her. "It is an honor! I am Elise of Valm! May I ask… have you met someone by the name of Noam? Or perhaps Basis, Maesus, Soner, or Bello?"

"I am afraid not!" Lucina calls back. "If I may ask, what is a valmese soldier doing in Plegia, especially during a war?"

Elise hesitates. It's not incredibly obvious, her composure only falters for a second, but it's enough to make Lucina suspicious. There's something Elise doesn't want to say. "I cannot say, unfortunately. It must remain a secret for now. However, I can guarantee I am no threat to you."

"And you expect me to trust your word, stranger?"

"Yes." Elise says simply. "I know of you, your Highness, and I know you take after your father in regards to trusting others. You will give me the benefit of the doubt, even against your better judgement."

Lucina hates that Elise is right. She _does_ trust her word, even though she probably shouldn't. The fact that Elise knows enough about her to make that claim, if anything, only makes Lucina trust her more.

"Fine, so be it." Lucina sighs. "What do you want of us then? Where are you headed stranger?"

"I am in search of those I mentioned earlier." Elise explains. "If you meet then, I would appreciate you telling them I am searching for them.

"How will I know if they are the right person? Surely their names are not unique to only them."

"If you do interact with them, you'll know." Elise says cryptically. She salutes once more and starts walking around the fort, making her way to Ylisse.

###

This was _not_ what he planned. Mother and the Shepherds were supposed to be here when the assassination plot began, but instead they went off somewhere in Plegia. That's bad; kinda awful actually.

So it's probably a good thing he went around finding some of his companions, because this is going to be a struggle even with them as backup.

Himself, Soner, Aliud, and Maesus is _not_ a sufficient team, but he knows Yarne is going to show up too, and Annabeth showed up around this time in their world so she might lend a hand. Of course Aesir himself can heal and isn't a notorious pacifist like great aunt Emmeryn was, which makes him a million times more useful in his own defence.

Sneaking into the palace is disappointingly easy, and it's not like Maesus is particularly stealthy. He takes after his father that way. The guards really are just incompetent if they can't notice Maesus.

Aliud takes the lead, and understandably so. It's _his_ father who's being targeted for assassination after all. He rushes down the hallways with spear in hand, startling the nighttime servants as he does so. Aliud knows exactly where his father sleeps, so it's only natural he takes charge.

The guards at the entrance to the royal wing of the palace are understandably reluctant to allow four random armed teenagrs to see the Exalt in the middle of the night, especially ones bringing a seemingly unfounded lie about an assassination and outright broke into the palace in the first place.

So Maesus uses a few waves of his sleep staff and they continue on. There isn't time to argue, and they can apologize later… in a few years, when this whole "the future in danger" thing is over with.

Surprisingly (and somewhat disappointingly) no other guards interrupt them, and Aliud leads them right to the Exalt's door, and knocks on it thrice. Despite the fact that he was probably asleep, the Exalt responds within a minute, clad in a purple robe. "Yes…? Who is it?"

"Aesir, sir, I am Marth." The boy in the mask introduces himself. That's not his actual name of course, it's Sami, but that's not relevant at the moment. "I am the man in the mask that aided your siblings a while back."

"Really now?" Aesir says. Glassy eyes stare curiously in their direction. "And what brings you here at this time of night? It _is_ nighttime, right?"

"Yes, it is." Sami affirms. "We are here with a warning, and assistance. You are currently in danger."

"Really now?" Aesir's voice sounds amused and somewhat sarcastic. "Ylisse is at war and I might be in danger? What _news!_ "

"I mean in danger _at this moment_." Sami clarifies. "Assassins, _now_."

"Ah, well that's a different case then." The exalt says. He walks across the room to grab his staff, which reveals that he was holding a hand behind his back that was clutching an arcthunder tome the entire time. He returns to them a moment later. "Do you have a particular plan?"

"I was honestly expecting the assassins to have attacked already." Sami admits. "Given this opportunity, however, I think we should move you to somewhere more defensible."

"Lead on then."

"You seem quite alright with being led around by people who you have never met." Soner notes with a frown on his face. "As convenient as it is at the moment, I must suggest you refrain from such things in the future."

"Unfortunately, being _blind_ makes that rather difficult. I am in need of others for the most part, so if I cannot eliminate _all_ my attackers I may as well go along with them, as I am quite likely to injure _myself_ if I try to run."

"I suppose." Soner says reluctantly. "You should really look into other options though."

Aesir smiles despite the situation. "Noted."

###

Is he in the right place? He hopes he's in the right place. Is this the right time? He thinks so. He followed the supposed assassins here. Maybe he's just paranoid.

Well, Yarne knows he's paranoid, he's just _more_ paranoid in this case.

Getting inside the palace was way easier than he expected. He thought there would be guards or something, but apparently not. No wonder they need his help, the guards can't even do their jobs!

So Yarne does his usual thing and turns into a giant rabbit monster (a giant hare actually), and starts running down hallways trying to find the Exalt. It also occurs to him at this point that it would be really nice if he had any idea how the palace was laid out, or where the Exalt's room is, or how the assassins planned to get in, or _anything_ _vaguely helpful, oh Naga what is he doing? This is a bad idea!_

Yarne doesn't have time to second-guess himself anymore, because a group of scruffy men dressed in thieves clothes round the corner with an armful of assorted jewelry. Apparently these assassins are not very disciplined.

As much as Yarne's instincts are telling him to run, he barrels into the robbers instead. It sends the jewelry flying everywhere and knocks most of his foes to the ground. A few wild slashes and bites gets rid of them easily. They're unarmored and off guard, and therefore easy eliminations.

This encounter, at least, confirms he has the right date.

Using his large ears and acute sense of smell, Yarne tries to get some clue of where the Exalt is. He can hear whispers echoing down hallways, some loud shouts, and can smell blood in the air. Yarne doesn't know what the Exalt smells like though, he might be smelling him right now and not know it.

Fine then, if he can't find the Exalt at the very least he can track and kill the assassins. It's easy to tell who they are at least: they almost all have Plegian accents.

Hares are not predators. Taguel, however, absolutely are. It makes for a strange conflict in his instincts. Taguel have instincts from their source animal, but also have instincts unique to taguel. Yarne has always felt more comfortable with the hide-and-flee instincts of the hare over his warrior, taguel side, but he's forced to use those instincts he would otherwise ignore in this case. He has to be the hunter.

And Naga above, Yarne _hates_ being the hunter. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately for him, he's also quite _good_ at being the hunter.

The corpses of dead guards makes an easy trail for Yarne to follow. There are a _lot_ of thieves to eliminate along the way, but Yarne also encounters cavaliers, brigands, dark mages, and some _proper_ assassins. Sometimes there are too many for Yarne to safely fight and he has to avoid them, which leaves a seed of worry in his stomach each time he has to do it. He's allowing some of his foes to run free, even if just because it's a fight he can't win on his own.

Then he runs into the Exalt completely on accident. Actually, the only reason he knows the exalt _is_ the exalt is because he can tell he's blind.

Yes, the only thing Yarne really knew about the exalt was that he's blind.

The exalt is being escorted by four people. Young adults by the look of it. What catches Yarne's attention most is that one of them is a taguel. He's not transformed, is holding a spear, and his ears are hidden in long hair behind his head, but he has the distinct smell of a taguel and fur tufts around his wrists (disguised as being insulation for gloves) that easily mark him as one for those who know the signs.

"Sir Yarne!" One of the _other_ people, a boy in a mask, call out to him. "We are in need of your help! We are escorting the Exalt out of the palace, please guard us!"

"O-Okay!" Yarne agrees. He can talk to this other taguel later. For now, he has a duty.

* * *

 **I think Yarne's segment is significantly better than the others in this chapter.**

* * *

 **B1ackAshes :** Thanks. It was experimental, so I'm glad it worked out well enough to be enjoyable.


	36. Bard Grima

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **I know this is breaking my usual pattern, but I thought up this idea and just** _ **had**_ **to do it. A quick little thing.**

* * *

"No!" Chrom gasps as Robin grabs the fire emblem from his numbing hands. "You… this was supposed to work…"

"Ah, what a shame!" The boy smiles. Red eyes crinkle in amusement and the purple flames around him flicker in response to that emotion. "My, or should I say _Robin's_ little plan failed! Ho-hum! Ha ha!"

Rob- no, _Grima_ twirls the shield in his hands as he walks away from the various struggling Shepherds. Some are engaged in combat, some are wounded and falling back, and some are like Chrom struggling on the floor after being shot in the chest by lightning.

"Say though, I'm a _fan_ of this vessel." Grima chuckles as he steps up onto the dais at the back of the room and sits on it. "Such a fascinating mind… in fact, I think I'll indulge a bit."

He pulls out Robin's guitar and strums it experimentally. A grin crosses his face as he watches Chrom struggles back to a standing position, and he starts to sing.

 _You say… the price of my rise is not a price that you're willing to pay._

 _You cry… and scream and rage at my wings as I pass you by!_

 _Why so sad? Remember I accepted this arrangement because you allowed me to stray_

 _Now you're making me mad… Remember, despite determination, you got outplayed~!_

Chrom grabs Falchion from where it fell on the floor and staggers away from the avatar, shouting for a retreat. Grima laughs and raises his voice.

 _You'll be back, soon you'll see._

 _You'll remember you stand no chance with me!_

 _You'll be back, time will tell._

 _Naga's pawns always serve her well!_

His eyes rise to the roof, gazing out a skylight to the sky.

 _Empires rise, dragons fall!_

 _We have fought each other through it all_

 _Though when push comes to shove_

 _She sends a band of holy warriors to remind me of her 'love'!_

 _Da da da dat da dat da da da da ya da_

 _Da da dat dat da ya da!_

The Shepherds flee the Plegian Royal Palace as Grima sings behind them. His cheerful voice makes the situation all the more haunting; he sounds like a madman rather than Robin's mere childishness.

###

The most insulting part of trying to fight Grima is the songs he sings at them as they try, and fail, to catch him. The Shepherds can be in a dead sprint after the monster and he'll skip along ahead of them, looking more like a minstrel than a world-killing dragon, playing that infernal guitar of his as Risen swarm them.

This particular song is childish to Chrom's ears, not to mention macabre. Grima sings it with unbridled glee, similarly to how Robin used to when making songs dedicated to mocking the other Shepherds. With guitar in hand and a Risen dark knight with arcfire by his side, he cheerfully belts out a song over the roars of battle.

I'm out in front, I've got the speed!

I love it when I make em' bleed!

They gotta go go go go go, they gotta gogogo,

They can't die fast if they burn too slow!

They gotta go go go go go!

The avatar strums out some transitionary music as the dark knight by his side slings arcfire at the Shepherds. Libra blocks the attacks with too much issue, having a high resistance to magic, but that's one more problem they have to deal with.

Grima's eyes focus on Chrom as he moves into the next verse of the song.

Chrom's not in front he's close behind,

He'd turn back if he had half a mind!

He's gotta go go go go go, he's gotta gogogo,

He can't die fast if he wears out too slow!

He's gotta go go go go go!

The avatar winks at the prince, as if they're playing some sort of game and the verse _wasn't_ a death threat. The gesture is so similar to Robin it hurts, and it makes Chrom all the more furious. Bad enough Grima has stolen his friend's face, but he's also aping the man's mannerisms.

Freddy's in the back he's in the rear,

He won't give up so I'll teach him fear!

He's gotta go go go go go, he's gotta gogogo,

He can't die fast if he's plain too slow!

He's gotta go go go go go!

The accordion noise coming out of Rob- _Grima's_ magical guitar taunts them all the way up until Grima leaves the battlefield. He casually steps up onto the back of a Risen falcon knight, waves cheerily, and flies well out of reach of the Shepherds.

###

Grima is having a grand old time by his standards. You know, the usual: killing humans, raising their dead bodies to fight their loved ones. A real party! Grima can't help but sing! He needs something catchy… aha!

 _Swish slash. I was doin' some math,_

 _Countin' down all of my foes!_

 _Run gun, just killin' everyone,_

 _Making everything alright!_

Grima sings with abandon. He's stopped playing the guitar with his hands for a while now so he can actually fight. Instead the guitar levitates behind him, and he plays the music remotely with magic.

Noticing a commotion off to the side, Grima strolls off in that direction while twirling his sword like one would a baton.

 _Well I step by a Risen, set my feet on a corpse_

 _I pull my guitar and I head for the war, cuz-_

 _Swish slash! Forget about the math,_

 _I can see out in the field there's a party goin' on!_

 _I was a swishin' and and a slashin'!_

 _Sweepin' and a beatin'!_

 _Cruisin' and a bruisin'!_

 _Rollin' and a boltin'! Yeah!_

Imagine his delight when he sees familiar faces there! Such a treat! Why, Naga must be in an especially foul mood today, hmm?

 _Well hot dang, I see the old gang,_

 _Marching out through my front lines!_

 _Pop flop, they was makin' em drop,_

 _All my troops go down in the mud!_

 _There was a- Miriel and ol' Freddy too_

 _Well howdy that's Nowi, and Chrom's even here too!_

 _Swish slash, forget about the math,_

 _I gotta go grab my thoron!_

He doesn't actually have to leave, he just pulls the tome out of his coat and starts blasting. It makes for a good song though, in his opinion.

Maybe he should keep the Shepherds alive just for the song inspiration. He never thought his vessel's pastime would be so amusing!

* * *

 **The songs parodied are "You'll be Back" from the Hamilton musical, "Go Go Go" from the Backyardagains, and "Splish Splash" by Bobby Darin. Yes, I** _ **did**_ **choose the least serious songs I could think of to parody just to be ridiculous.**

* * *

 **Bakururu :** It's fine, don't worry. Get some sleep.


	37. Second Generation Replacement 8

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **This particular miniseries is wearing on me. I'll be relieved when it's done to be honest. It's a cool idea, but it hasn't turned out so well.**

* * *

"Pardon me, but I wish to know how close this is to Ylisse."

"Shove off kid."

The boy frowns as he's rejected once again. He thought the Feroxi were allies of Ylisse, yet they're so rude.

Unfortunately, he's not quite sure where he is beyond just being in Ferox. He doesn't know if he needs to go south, or if he should be going east first to avoid hitting Plegia. He came into this little village last night after stumbling through the snow, but none of the locals have been friendly to him. He's considered bribing one of them with money for directions, but his funds are low and it seems like a waste of money he could be using on food.

Considering no one is giving him directions though, it may be _necessary_ to bribe someone. He likes to think himself above such things, but reality is often disappointing.

" _Maybe it's the mask._ " He considers. " _Or perhaps they don't like my prosthetics_."

He's aware he's quite out of place. Not only is his phenotype completely different from anyone elses with his pale skin and the slight epithantic folds on his green eyes, but the smooth wooden mask that covers the left half of his face and neck as well as his wooden left leg and left hand mark his as both crippled but also probably more wealthy than everyone here considering the quality of the prosthetics (not to mention the relatively higher quality of his clothes, even if they are worn-out by this point).

Well, he's not actually more wealthy. His clothes are courtesy of someone else who happened to be quite generous.

At the very least he's not cold. While the villagers don't seem to like him, he was able to buy a coat without a hassle which is much appreciated. He has very little body fat, so the cold chills him particularly quick and therefore the coat is quite welcome.

" _Maybe I should just head east until I hit the ocean?_ " The boy considers. " _But who knows how long that would take. I might not have the money to manage the trip._ "

What's the alternative though? Head south and pray that he's near Ylisse and not Plegia? That could easily be a fatal mistake. If Ylisse and Plegia are at war at the moment, the Plegian military is not likely to look kindly on an outsider.

Well, if the locals won't give him instructions, maybe he can find a merchant to give him directions, or just find his way to a larger city and hope to find someone there who can direct him. Neither idea sounds particularly appealing to be honest. It could take a month for a merchant to arrive, and finding his way to a larger city would rely on either luck or following someone, and it seems unlikely that anyone here would let him follow along.

" _Getting to Ylisse won't solve my problems anyhow._ " He reminds himself. " _I still have no means to support myself, and there is no guarantee I will find the others. I'm not a future child like the others either, so I do not have an in with the Shepherds._ "

Even with all that in mind, this world is a massive step up from the old one… except for how cold it is. Ferox wasn't this bad in the old world.

" _Maybe Grima didn't like the cold. He's a dragon, right? A reptile? Maybe he kept Ferox warmer on purpose so he could move around there._ "

With a quiet sigh the boy makes his way to the inn. He'll rest for another day, then make a decision tomorrow about his course of action.

###

The next day, unfortunately, doesn't bring any change in his circumstance. Forced to make a decision, the boy resigns himself to an attempt to head east. He starts out following cart tracks from the edge of the village that are heading south-east.

Moving through the snow with his prosthetic leg is more difficult than it would be for someone else, because he doesn't _step_ with a prosthetic leg so much as he swings it in front of himself and balances on it. That's the price of having his knee destroyed; even if his prosthetic has a joint to replace the knee, he can only exert force through his thigh. So basically he has to drag his leg through the snow to take a step rather than moving normally which is a subtle but very inconvenient difference in this situation.

Still, he's had to slog through bad terrain for hours before. The only difference here is that it's cold. He should be able to handle this.

Crunch, shhh, crunch, shhh… One leg breaks the snow's surface, the other drags through, both creating distinct sounds. He mindlessly follows the fading wagon tracks. Within the hour he expects the tacks to be gone completely, and that he'll be relying on luck to find a city.

The cold is really starting to get to him after the fourth hour. The heavy fur of his new coat does wonders, but it's only so effective.

The boy doesn't know if stopping for a rest would help or hurt his situation. Deciding to assume it's the latter, he avoids resting for more than a few minutes at a time to keep his blood pumping.

He absently remembers that he doesn't have his bow attached at the moment. He has a special prosthetic with a built-in bow, and it's not like he can attach that in a hurry but it's impractical to have it on at all times. He has a dagger he could pull of course, but he's an archer primarily.

Brigands are thankfully rare in Ferox… from what he remembers anyhow. That is what Mistress said, right? Before the war Ferox had little banditry because they "were all super tough!" or something like that.

She gave a more detailed explanation than that, but he doesn't remember the specifics.

That doesn't mean there aren't brigands at all though. If he runs into any, he's probably done for. If he's lucky they'll just take his money, but it's not like he has any extra money stashed away somewhere so losing his money is just as much of a death sentence as actually killing him.

Well, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration, but he doesn't have much confidence many people will be willing to employ a cripple from another country with oddly higher-class clothes than he should probably own and who wears a half mask.

Maybe he shouldn't be thinking about this right now. There's nothing he can do about it anyhow.

When the sun starts to get low in the sky, he realizes he's not getting to a city in time for nightfall. While that's certainly unfortunate, it's not the end of the world. Using his dagger the boy cuts down some saplings and creates a slightly elevated wooden platform to lie on, then scrapes bark off trees to act as kindling, and finds some dead wood to act as more substantial fuel for the fire that night. It's not as substantial a fire as he would have liked, but without a hatchet it's the best he can do (and certainly better than no fire at all).

He cooks some of his rations over the fire while counting how much he has left. If he really stretches it, he counts, he can manage a week before he needs to buy more. Hopefully that's overkill, but one can never be certain.

###

The town he stumbles across after two days of travelling is only slightly bigger than the one he came from. The locals aren't much more friendly, but there is someone of great help at the village: an Anna.

"Well, you're an interesting sight!" The redhead greets when he walks up. "You look… valmese, is that right?"

"Indeed." The boy murmurs. He bows politely to the merchant. "I am Noam, it is an honor to meet you Miss Anna."

" _Miss_ Anna? Well, you're more polite than half the people I've talked to in my whole life." She smiles. "What do you need cutie? My selection is a bit limited at the moment, I don't bring the fancy stuff out to distant villages, but I can get 'cha a wide variety of things if you give me a week."

"Ah, well I have not much need of supplies or anything physical." Noam says apologetically. "I have need of directions though, and I can pay if need be."

"Ah, lucky you I deal in information too." Anna winks. "Where do you need to get?"

"I'm looking to head to Ylisstol." The boy murmurs.

"Ylisstol huh? That's quite a ways." Anna whistles.

"Where are we exactly, if you don't mind me asking?"

"You're at the far west end of Ferox, near the northmost bit of it. Basically as far away from Ylisstol as you can get without going 'cross the sea." Anna informs him. A grin cross her face and she leans forwards. "Say… I have something that could be of help to you. How does a map sound?"

Noam stands up straighter. A map _does_ sound good, except… "What price are we speaking of? I am tight on funds at the moment, despite what my attire might suggest about my wealth."

"Bad year in your country?"

"No." Noam murmurs. "The only reason I am as well-dressed as I am is because my mistress is quite generous. I am merely a personal servant."

"No kidding? Well, still, I think we can get an agreeable price." Anna says. She roots around in her supply wagon to find the map in question and lay it out on her stand. "See? Quite the quality map if I do say so myself. We're over here incidentally." She points to somewhere close to the north-west corner. "Your best bet is to go to Arnakix, then jump major cities until you get to Haldikirk before you start heading south."

"I see… my thanks."

"Now, about the map." Anna smirks. "How does five gold sound?"

Noam purses his lips. He's never been good at haggling. "Please understand, I have only ten gold to use for my entire trip. I will need to buy food and perhaps shelter along the way. If you are willing to sell for three, I will happily buy it, but five is beyond what I can safely purchase."

"Hmm…" Anna taps her cheek while scrutinizing him. "I've got another offer that might work better for both of us. It's a hard job running a route all by my lonesome. I've got a few more stops to make in the area, but after that I'm heading to Arnakix myself. If you'll help me out for a week or so, I'll give you the map free of charge, _and_ let you ride in my cart and share my food."

"That sounds very one-sided in my favor."

"You'd think so huh? Don't underestimate what a girl is willing to do to get some help. Besides, like I said, it's lonely. I'm not just paying you for the labor, I'm paying for the company too."

"Well, that sounds more than acceptable." Noam agrees. He wants to get to Ylisstol quickly… but a week or two will hardly make a difference for him. Compared to the rest of the group that came from the future, his presence is easily the most irrelevant. "I will happily take you up on the offer."

"We've got a deal then, shake on it." Anna sticks out her hand, and Noam shakes it. "First order of business then is to show you how to take money. Have you ever made a sale before?"

"I have not."

"Well, then this is what you do…"

* * *

 **bauers374** **:** That actually wasn't supposed to be a reference at all. I only realized when you mentioned it that it is similar to that meme.

Communism really doesn't hold a character centric story very well (or, more specifically, it doesn't fit how _I_ write character-centric stories). Aside from maybe some philosophic arguments with other characters, being a communist is an exceedingly minor character trait. It's also not a trait I particularly care to write because I don't find it that interesting. I'll put it down, but to be frank I don't expect it to be used. It doesn't fit the stories I write. It's a wonderful life is a fine idea though.

 **Guest : **Ha.


	38. Self Insert 3

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **I really like this miniseries. Self-inserts are fun, both to write and to read. I don't have much of an overarching plan though, I'm just rolling with whatever comes to mind. Also, I wish I had a map of where every second generation kid is recruited. It would make this a lot easier.**

* * *

My body is weird. I mean, that's a given considering it isn't really _my_ body, it's a random body I got upon arriving in this world. Did I inhabit someone else's body, taking over their mind? Did I just get a new one for no discernable reason? Maybe. Naga probably knows. Maybe Naga's responsible for this for all I know.

This is feeling less and less like a coma every day…

Anyhow, my body is weird. Not just because it has muscles (which are still super uncomfortable by the way), but for another reason. A reason I noticed when I took a swing at that bandit, but was too high on adrenaline to really think too much about at the time. This body... has auto-aim.

Yes, you heard that right. Auto-aim. When I swung my axe to hit that bandit, my arms automatically adjusted themselves to have proper form. I never picked up an axe in my life before arriving in this world, and I sure as hell don't know the proper form for swinging one in battle, but when I attacked my arms suddenly jerked like they were being controlled so that I was actually using it properly.

I wonder if I'm even capable of improvement then. If the details of my attacks are essentially out of my control, then I don't know I'll ever be able to get better at fighting. It's convenient for the moment, but I'm smart enough to realize it won't be forever… assuming I'm actually going to get into the Shepherds of course. That's a big assumption. I'm not even sure I want to do that. Fighting is really not my thing.

I have to wonder if Naga is responsible for this. If so, then fuck you Naga. I like my old body. It's weak, frail, and slightly unhealthy, but it's _mine_ damnit. I don't like this new body. I don't care that it's strong or more attractive or whatever. It's uncomfortable to be in another body!

Assuming, again, I'm not in a coma or something.

At the very least my new body is convenient for traveling. I don't feel tired nearly as quickly as I would with my old body. I can last more than two hours of walking around, and through the cold with uneven terrain at that.

Morgan and Noire are fairly endurant too, but Noire is malnourished and Morgan just doesn't have as much physical ability as I do. It feels strange to be the most physically able of the group, but so be it.

That's why I end up giving the girls piggyback rides. Morgan eagerly accepts when I offer, but Noire is hesitant. I guess I don't blame her. I'm still a weird bandit-looking guy. I wouldn't be eager to accept a ride, much less any form of physical contact, from myself either, even if I am somewhat responsible for saving her.

Eventually, after some prodding from Morgan, she reluctantly accepts a ride. Morgan was a squirmy passenger. She couldn't sit still and constantly chattered in my ear as I walked. Noire is the opposite. She's as still as a board and totally silent. She doesn't rest her head on my shoulder like Morgan did, instead choosing to keep her head resting against the back of mine.

She's also keeping her upper body arced away from mine, which cannot be comfortable.

"Noire, I get that you think Nathan is scary, but seriously, you're going to give yourself a back ache like that." Morgan interjects. "I was fine, right? You'll be fine too."

Seems like Morgan has picked up on it too. It's cool to have someone so observant around, I'm used to no one noticing the small details that I do.

Noire's grip on my shoulders tightens. "But…"

"Look, if you really wanted to be worried about it, you wouldn't have accepted a ride in the first place right?" Morgan points out. "And you've already got your legs around his waist. So, again, if you were _really_ concerned about something sketchy, you're already past the point of stopping that."

I blink and process that information. Something sketchy? From me? I already helped save Noire's life, what makes her think I'd hurt her now? What does having her legs-

Oooh, _that_ sort of sketchy…

Morgan glances at me and raises an amused eyebrow. "You just figured it out, didn't you?"

"Maybe."

"See Noire, nothing to worry about. Didn't even cross his mind."

" _Well now it has. Thanks for that Morgan._ " I think, and scrunch up my face at the girl. She rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue in response. "If anything, the fact that _you_ thought of it means you have a dirty mind."

She gasps in a way that's obviously fake. "Me? Never! I'm just a child! Look at this innocent face." She frames her face with her hands and smiles sweetly, though in her amusement she can't quite keep it up and it quickly turns into something closer to a smug grin.

"Your smugness is showing." I say. "All I see is the grin of a devil."

"First you accuse me of being lewd, and then you call me a devil!" Morgan gasps. "My reputation will never recover! I'm forever despoiled!"

"Despoiled? Now you're just overacting." I scoff. "And isn't it defiled, not despoiled?"

"Defiled? Now who's being lewd?" Morgan teases back, dropping her act.

Noire watches all of this silently. I wish I could see her expression right now to know if she's horrified, disgusted, or something negative like that.

"So anyhow, point is, don't worry." Morgan addresses Noire. She really can change subject on a dime, huh? "Relax…"

Noire shifts in place, probably uncomfortable, but reluctantly rests her head on my shoulder and her upper body against my back. I make a point of ignoring what she does and not commenting on it. I also make a point of not thinking about it.

"No comment Nathan?" Morgan grins.

Oh, so you're _trying_ to make everyone uncomfortable, are you? I mean, that's par for the course for Morgan I guess, but… "perhaps we should drop this, at least for the moment. While I might tolerate your teasing, for Noire's sake we may wish to stop."

Morgan balks, hesitates, then nods. "Alright. I'll just wait until my next ride."

"You assume you're getting another one." I huff.

"Of course I am! We still have weeks of travel, and you aren't about to pass up the chance to have a cute girl wrapped…" She trails off. "Sorry, stopping."

"Thank you."

We walk in silence for a few minutes before Morgan speaks up. "Incidentally Noire, I'm an adult. No need to look so worried."

So Noire _was_ making a face… people thinking I'm taking advantage of Morgan better not be a running joke. I mean, I don't mind when Morgan jokes about it, but she _knows_ it's a joke. Otherwise this is really inconvenient.

Well, I guess I _am_ taking advantage of Morgan, but I'm taking advantage of her kindness, not… her body.

I don't like this train of thought. Moving on.

###

I kinda forgot the medieval ages had a lot less music variety. When I started singing quietly to myself, Morgan and Noire instantly took an interest. My singing voice is awful, but I guess the novelty of new styles of songs outweighs that.

I try and go through as many styles as I can, but I really only listen to pop and rock. I have to wonder how they'd take to heavy metal if they could hear it, or techno for that matter.

I sing as many songs as I can remember before my voice gives out. Proper songs, parody songs, video game songs, anything. Lost in Thoughts all Alone and both versions of Edge of Dawn are a given, but I throw in about a dozen Sonic songs, multiple themes for television shows, and a few proper songs like You Don't Mess Around with Jim and American Pie. I sing various things for about an hour before my voice is hoarse and I have to stop.

At the very least it seems to endear me to Noire and lends some credibility to my claim of being an outrealmer.

I feel a sense of melancholy after I stop singing. If this is real, if this isn't a coma, I'll never be able to hear those songs again. It's not the same to sing them as it is to hear them. The internet, the _internet_ , I'll never get that again. Books and plays just don't substitute. There's a reason the internet is so addicting, it's _awesome_. I wish more than anything now that I was good with music or electronics so I could at least recreate some of my world here, but I don't even really know how a lightbulb works. I know you push electricity through a coiled wire, but I don't know why or how that does anything.

"What's up?" Morgan asks. Of course she noticed. I'll have to learn to be more subtle. No one likes angst from other people. I know I'd find it annoying. I mean, if it was something important I'd be sympathetic, but something as pointless as not being able to have internet? That would be irritating.

"Nothing."

She raises an eyebrow, not convinced.

"Nothing _important_." I clarify. "Nothing you could do anything about either, so don't worry."

"If you're trying to get me to ignore it, you're doing a terrible job." Morgan says bluntly. "Let me be the judge of what I can and can't do."

"Unless you can invent electricity, implement it into numerous instruments, invent an incredibly complicated system of devices to make a computer, or know how to make a portal to a world that may or may not be connected to the outrealms at all that I have no idea of being able to really direct you towards, you can't help." I say bluntly.

Morgan blinks slowly. Noire is staring at me. "So… you're not from the outrealms?"

"Hell if I know." I shrug. "In my world magic doesn't exist. Also, I'm not sure if this is a hallucination or if I'm in a coma or something right now. Regardless of if this is real or not, I want _out_."

Morgan thinks it over. All of us are silent for almost two minutes. The world is quiet except for slight wind and the faint rustle of grass as Noire shifts from foot to foot with unease scrawled on her face.

"You know, you being an outrealmer was a bit unbelievable before." Morgan says quietly. "I didn't discount the idea, but I was also taking under consideration that you might be a little insane. Then you sung all those songs, and I realized there's no way you could have just made all that up. You sang to styles that don't exist, you used words and referenced things that don't exist. I believed you were an outrealmer at that point, so believing that you're from somewhere outside the outrealms, especially considering your future vision that you won't explain, isn't too much of a stretch."

So she believes me, yay. Doesn't solve my problem. Then again, my problem is petty, I shouldn't have reacted so strongly. It was a dangerous choice to show my hand as well. I had refuge in Morgan not understanding where I was from. I didn't have to explain that they're characters from a game. There was _safety_ in keeping Morgan in the dark. I made a mistake because I'm too emotional, as usual.

"Look, it's nothing. You _can't_ help." I say bitterly. I'm aware of the venom in my voice, but it's hard to keep out. I've never been good at emotional control. "Not your fault, not your problem. If this is real, I don't expect there to be a way back. I'll just have to deal with how archaic this world is. That's ignoring the fact that I won't see my _family_ again either."

The bile in my voice has only increased. My face contorts into a snarl. It's not really directed at Morgan, just the world in general. I've always found it easy to _hate_ and to work myself up, and this situation is unfortunately perfect for both of those things.

I make an attempt to reign myself in. "Look, there's no point getting involved with my issues. Sometimes there's no happy ending. I've resigned myself that this world is going to suck compared to mine, for both petty and proper reasons. Just let me be bitter. I'll get tired of it eventually. This is beyond both of our capabilities by a huge margin." My voice is hoarse, my eyes slightly red.

Morgan doesn't look happy with that answer. She frowns and crosses her arms while looking in my direction. I don't meet her eyes, instead choosing to glare at a tree to my left.

I'm partially expecting Morgan to scold me for my outburst. That's what I'm used to. You're nver supposed to show anger to anyone. No one likes anger, I know I don't. Morgan's response is different though.

"You don't know any way back?"

I shake my head silently. Speaking is a bad idea right now I think.

"I don't have a solution." Morgan says quietly. "Crossing universes? Not my expertise… even if I've done it before apparently. I can't get you home. Not any time soon anyways, and if you're right then probably not ever."

Thanks for confirming that. I guess I was hoping she'd magically come up with a solution, but that's unreasonable to think.

"However." Morgan says. Her face sets into a line. "You're responsible for saving my life-"

" _Maybe_ I saved you." I cut in. "I have no idea if the Risen would have come in an hour or two years. It might have been pointless for me to take you out of those ruins, and you have no proof of anything I did anyhow."

"-and I have no intent of abandoning you." Morgan continues, ignoring my words. "I know you're worried about that. It's why you make a joke of it, right? I can't send you home, but I can try and help you deal with this world and find something worthwhile."

"Don't make that sort of promise." I say sharply. "You have your own problems. Don't take on mine. You don't know if you'll be around me enough to keep that promise, or if you'll _want_ to be around me that long."

"If you're a total jerk, maybe, but I really don't think that's the case." Morgan says firmly. "If you'll _let_ me, I will help you. I happen to be fond of you if you haven't noticed already. This world might be worse than yours, but it doesn't have to be bad. Worse and bad are two different things."

"I'd say it's bad. There's probably going to be a _war_ , not to mention a world-killing dragon. Everyone is pretty racist, not to mention sexist, and I by no means enjoy any of the activities people would expect a man to do." I reply. "All in all… bad."

"There won't always be a war though." Morgan says quietly. "And people always suck. I doubt that's changed where you come from."

Considering the state of politics at the time I left, I really can't deny that. "Yeah… probably overreacting…"

"Just a little. I wouldn't exactly be happy about being pulled out of my home never to return, especially if I actually _liked_ my home." Morgan says sympathetically. "I may have amnesia, but that means I don't know what I'm missing. You do, and _acutely_."

I hate this. I really do. I don't hate Morgan of course. No, I hate that this conversation happened, I hate the situation I'm in, I hate this world, and I hate that this doesn't look like a coma anymore. I hate that I can't keep myself under control, I hate that I don't feel like I deserve Morgan's help. I know I'm useless. I'm petrified of battle, have no useful skills for living in medieval times, and only have some vague future-knowledge and a new body to prevent me from being total dead weight.

I want to accept Morgan's help for selfish reasons, and I _don't_ want to accept because I know I'll be more of a burden then a help in the long run. Morgan's goodwill isn't going to be infinite.

But at heart, I suppose I've always been selfish. There's no way I can pass up help in my situation. I'm not in a position to refuse unless I want to die in a gutter somewhere sooner rather than later.

"Alright…" I mutter, still feeling terrible about this whole situation.

"Good." Morgan nods.

"If there's something I can do in return then, tell me." I insist. "I don't have many useful skills, but…"

"Got it." She smiles.

To the side, Noire lets out a quiet sigh of relief. I'd forgotten she was there.

###

Camping is different now that we have Noire. For one thing, we don't have to use controlled explosions to knock birds out of trees anymore. Noire can just shoot them. Granted we brought food along with us, so Noire doesn't _need_ to hunt, but we all agree it's a good idea to supplement our supplies whenever possible, just in case.

Noire is quiet in comparison to me and Morgan. Me and Morgan talk about my world or this world (mostly my world…), I recount various media properties like Batman, Mario, Sonic, Teen Titans, and really anything I can think of, and Morgan starts explaining to me some of the basics behind tactics. Any attempt to try and pull Noire into the conversation doesn't last long. She'll speak quietly, and listen more than talk. I guess she's not comfortable with either of us. I can understand why she wouldn't like me, but Morgan?

Maybe she feels like a bit of a third wheel…

Incidentally, I take the time to explain Fire Emblem to Morgan. Now that she knows about my world, I might as well spill the details on how I know what I know. I can tell the instant she realizes that I'm talking this world and people she actually knows because she sits up straight and listens in dead silence. Even Noire, who was mostly ignoring us while making arrows, stops what she's doing to listen.

"So that's what you mean by future sight." Morgan says quietly when I finish my explanation. "You… controlled us?"

"Well no. It's more like… moving chess pieces that happen to have a lot of your traits. It was a game to us. A game created by people that was supposed to be entirely fictional. Magic doesn't even exist in our world and we have no confirmed knowledge of other dimensions. I don't know what sort of freak chance made a game that happens to resemble this world exist in the one I came from, but that's the fact of the matter." I sigh. "So I have no idea how accurate my knowledge actually is, and any deviations might have a ripple effect of making my knowledge progressively less accurate and useful."

"But that might be for the better." Morgan notes.

"Maybe." I agree. "One last thing…"

"You forgot to mention something?"

"Probably, but no. I just figured I should mention my weird auto-aim."

"What?"

"Uh… if I swing my axe at a target, only in combat, something seems to just… automatically adjust my form." I cough. "Magic maybe? I don't know."

"That is _super_ weird." Morgan says. "I'll keep that in mind though. That… that changes things a bit. Actually, I've been meaning to ask, what combat training did you have back home?"

"Absolutely none." I sigh. "I was a civilian. My only arguable skill is writing, and not even very good writing."

"Oh." Morgan blinks. "A civilian?"

"Yeah."

"That explains so much." Morgan mutters. "I was under the assumption you were a warrior. Geeze, no wonder you're so panicky."

Ouch, but true. The conversation mostly ends there.

Today has been a heavy day. I feel emotionally and physically exhausted. Me and Morgan watch Noire cook some birds she shot over the fire. I'm slouched over with hands on my knees to keep myself up. Morgan, who's sitting next to me, leans into my side. I appreciate the contact. Something about touch is just… soothing. Maybe it's just the child in me that likes it.

"Thanks." I mutter quietly. I'm not sure if it's loud enough for Morgan to hear, but it must be because she ends up responding.

"Thanks?" She asks, and smirks. "Nathan… you know how we shared a bed for, like, three days?"

"Yes…?"

"Did you assume I was just humoring you or something?"

"Yes." Of course I did. I'm surprised she put up with it the first day, much less longer than that. "I got the impression you were indifferent to it, or doing it for my sake."

"Of course you did." Morgan sighs. "Well that's not the case."

"Oh." I guess I could have inferred that, but there's something that just seems… _wrong_ about Morgan being okay with being around me. It feels like a joke, like there's no way it could actually be true.

"So no need to say thanks. I'm fond of this too." She clarifies.

"Right." That feels too good to be true. There's a part of me that thinks she's lying just to make me feel better. "Morgan."

"Hmm?"

"Are you telling the truth?"

Morgan hums. "You have reason to doubt me?"

"I already know you think I'm fragile, and you're not exactly wrong." I mutter. "So I think I have a reason to assume you might lie, even if it is for my sake."

The girl nods, then says in a neutral tone. "You know you're paranoid, right?"

"I'm well aware."

"Trust issues too."

"That's the reason for my question."

"I can't help but feel this is just an offshoot of your self-worth issues as well."

"Probably."

Morgan rolls her eyes. "Well I'm telling the truth, chill out. Like I said, I happen to be fond of this. You're worrying waaaay too much."

"But-"

"Nathan." She cuts me off. "You know how you said to ask if I needed anything?"

"Uh, yes?"

"I need you to stop being ridiculous."

I let out a frustrated sigh. If only it were so easy to ignore my inner doubt. "I can try."

"Like, if it's a _big_ deal we can keep talking about it, but I'm pretty sure you're having a minor doubt and unnecessarily working yourself up." Morgan clarifies.

As usual, she's right on the nose. "Yeah, that sounds like me." I admit in a mumble. It wouldn't be the first time I've done that. Working myself into a panic, or vehement hatred, sometimes both at the same time, is fairly standard for me.

So I try to stop worrying and let Morgan lean against me. I don't miss Noire breathing another quiet sigh of relief.

" _I'm really not making a good impression on her, am I?_ "

###

I put a conscious effort in the next day to try and chat with Noire. It goes badly. Very badly. Unfortunately, my mind is the same as before I got stuck in this world, so my social skills are just as garbage as they've always been. Morgan understands that I have the social grace of a very large hairball, but I'm fairly sure Noire just plain doesn't like me. She didn't before, and she definitely doesn't after today.

The problem seems to be that I just don't have anything to talk about with Noire. We have nothing in common, she's not particularly interested in small talk, and she doesn't like talking about herself either. She also physically shies away from me despite the fact that I am already intentionally keeping a fair distance.

I wish I could just say I'm bad at talking to women (and I am), but… this is just me being bad at talking to people in general.

Morgan keeps giving me the side-eye as I try to talk with Morgan. I think she understands what I'm trying to do, hence why she doesn't try to stop me despite the fact that I'm probably bothering Noire.

Eventually I give up trying to make conversation with the nervous girl. It's clear, at least today, that I won't make any headway.

Incidentally, Morgan was correct when she said she'd get another ride. We still have plenty of distance to cover, and it's not like Morgan's endurance is going to magically improve to be equal to mine overnight. She wants to sit up on my shoulders this time, but after getting smacked in the face several times with branches she reluctantly transitions to a piggyback.

"So…" Morgan says in a quiet voice. Her breath tickles the back of my ear (which is actually somewhat uncomfortable, I don't like the tingling feeling it makes). "I take it your… whatever you were doing… didn't go well?"

"Unfortunately not." I sigh. "I felt like Noire was kinda being excluded, so I've been trying to talk with her, but I'm fairly sure she doesn't like me."

"Hmm…" Morgan hums. "Well, she was a slave not less than a week ago, and you are a total stranger who happens to know things about her and this world that you really shouldn't because this was literally a game to you at one point."

Yeah, fair point.

"She's probably still not sure what to do and just following us because it's the only real option." Morgan murmurs. "Don't worry too much. It's only been a few days after all."

"Right." It still feels like a failure on my part though. "Do you think you'd have more success?"

"Probably…?" Morgan shrugs. "Do you want me to try?"

"Up to you." I murmur. "But if I would help her…"

"Alright." She nods. I think I can hear amusement in her voice. I can't see her face because it's slightly behind my field of view, but I imagine she's smirking. "And hey…"

"Hmm?"

"You were so worried about touch last night, but you're fine with this." She squeezes me lightly with her arms. "Hypocrite."

Yeah, I guess that is a bit hypocritical of-

"Or maybe you overcame your nervousness just because you _really_ wanted a cute girl on your back." Morgan teases.

I make the decision to play along with Morgan's joke this time. "Of course. I'm actually a terrible brigand, didn't my clothes give it away? This is an elaborate kidnapping."

"Oh really?"

"Really." I say in as flat a voice as I can manage. "I'm taking horrible perverted glee from my current situation."

"Oh no. Ahh. I'm in danger." Morgan says in an equally flat voice. "Oh dear. It's not like me being on your back is an advantageous situation for me in combat."

"I could smash you into a tree." I suggest.

Morgan nods. "You could, fair point. However I have a good position to stab you from here, or to strangle you."

"I suppose." I nod. "If you were stronger than me, your situation would have almost no downsides at all. There would be no risk of me grabbing you and… slamming you on the ground? Breaking a limb? I have easy access to your legs right now."

"Very true…" Morgan muses. "Hmm, I didn't consider my legs, that's a very good point."

"It's still more advantageous for you overall though." I say.

"I agree."

"So perhaps I should beware of the dangerous sword-wielding girl on my back?"

"Well, the joke of me being in danger was under the assumption that you were a horrible pervert, so unless you're implying _I'm_ a horrible pervert-"

"Well, considering you keep making mildly suggestive jokes, maybe you are."

"Rude!" Morgan huffs. She shifts on my back and tightens the grip her legs have around my waist. "I'm positively aghast!"

"I'm sure you are."

"Offended, really."

"Uh-huh."

"Beyond words."

"Well considering your jokes were at my expense at first, I think _I_ should be more offended than you."

"But I am a _lady_!" Morgan protests sarcastically. "To accuse me of something such as _lewdness_ would ruin me forever!"

"Right, as if your incredible tactical knowledge wouldn't guarantee you a position in any military in the world."

"Shh…" Morgan shushes. "I'm playing the offended delicate lady! Logic ruins the fun!"

I roll my eyes. "Oh, _delicate_ are you?"

"Shut up."

"I'm fairly sure you're too strong to be considered delicate."

Morgan pauses. "I'm not sure if I'm sarcastically offended or actually flattered…"

"Both?"

"Yeah, sure. Both." She's quiet for a moment, then says. "Where was I…?"

"Offended delicate lady."

"Right, right. Eh-hem. How dare you accuse _moi_ of lewdness! I am pure and incorruptible!"

"So you claim, yet your current situation is very unbecoming of a lady." I counter. "May I remind you that being carried on someone's back is not lady-like?"

"Nor is walking kilometers through the snow." Morgan sniffs pretentiously. "This is not an _optimal_ situation, but I will take being carried over an undignified slog."

Noire is giving us the side-eye again. If she didn't think I was weird before, she definitely does now. Actually, she probably thinks Morgan is a weirdo now too. I don't even know the point of this weird role-play we're doing, but hey, it's fun, and it's a way to pass the time.

"On the back of a _lewd_ brigand?"

"So you admit to lewdness!"

"I admit to no such thing, only that you think I am such."

"Well, be that as it may, I would prefer to be carried _properly_ , and by a proper knight, but alas I am reduced to such a horrid situation."

"Carried properly? Is this about you preferring to be up on my shoulders?"

"Oh heavens no! The mere _thought_ gives me heart palpitations!"

Really playing this up, aren't we? "Then what is your preference, _my lady_?" I add as much sarcasm to my voice as I can, and try to hide the fact that I'm smiling. "Shall I toss you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes?"

I actually grab her (lower) legs as if preparing to move her, and Morgan's grip tightens.

"Naga, _no_!" She gasps in exaggerated fashion. "I should be carried in the arms as a proper knight would do!"

There's no way I can do that for long, that would hurt my arms, but for a little bit I can do it. "If you insist."

Morgan squeaks in surprise when I reach around and grab her by the back of her coat. I wouldn't actually be able to dislodge her if she didn't allow me to, her position gives her a good grip, but allows me to lift her off my back and carry her in my arms. She's not heavy, but it's simply not practical to carry things in your arms for a long distance. That's the whole point of the piggyback ride.

It's actually a bit weird to carry her bridal style, mostly because she's looking at me the whole time and it's a lot more awkward to walk like this.

"Okay, there's no way I can keep carrying you like this." I say flatly.

"Yeah, doesn't look comfortable." Morgan agrees. She slides out of my grip and stands in the snow. "That was fun."

"Yeah." It _was_ fun. Not exactly what I expected to happen, but fun. I poke her in the nose. "Lewd girl."

"You were playing along too!"

"Oh sure, but I was just following the leader."

"I'm the leader of this group now?"

"I thought you already were." I say honestly.

"Oh, I thought that was you." She responds in surprise.

"The only reason I was in charge before was because I had a vague idea of where we should be going. Though by that logic I suppose Noire should be in charge now." I muse. "But you're the tactician, someone who supposedly has leadership skills. Besides, you're also the calmest of us three."

"Flattery will get you everywhere." Morgan smirks. "I _guess_ I'll lead."

"You say as if you weren't already leading." I say.

"Well yeah, but I wasn't really conscious of the fact I was expected to lead." The girl shrugs.

"Ah right… if you're not comfortable with it-"

"Nah, I can do it." She absently pats me on the arm. "I'm fine. It's a good point."

"Okay."

"Thanks for making sure though." She says. She looks towards Noire. "I'd say it's her turn to ride now, but…"

I glance at Noire, who immediately looks away. She was watching us the entire time as we were doing our weird roleplay act.

"...maybe we should ask later."

"Yeah."

"We're weird, aren't we?"

"Just a bit." I nod.

* * *

 **This… was a chapter. Nathan finally comes to grips with the fact that he's probably not in a coma and panics accordingly, and after he stops freaking out he properly illuminates Morgan about Earth and the odd phenomena of his auto-aim, and he and Morgan do a lot of talking, some of it serious, a lot of it not.**

 **Nathan is a mess of insecurities, and he and Morgan are still fun to write.**

* * *

 **bauers374** **:** Yeah, that sort of story really isn't something I'm interested in writing unfortunately. Not a bad idea though.

 **Raj8** **:** Okay…

[1] Incidentally, the Robin in TRV and the Robin in this chapter are different at base. I didn't make the story with the contrast you noticed explicitly in mind, tough the difference in their reactions are an interesting note.

[2] All of what you said is true… but Robin is also just a bit of a dick in this one.

[3] I had a lot planned for this miniseries that I had to scrap. I think it could be made into a good, proper story if I put in the time but… it's a lot of work. There are twice the number of characters thanks to the Pokemon for one. Also, there just wasn't a lot of interest, so I wouldn't be worthwhile to make.

[7] Lucina is not someone I'm familiar with writing, but for one thing she _can't_ avoid everyone as much as she can because then she'd starve to death, and taking full advantage of something so exploitive also seemed wrong.

Succubi are limiting to write insomuch as they are succubi. That's to say there are only a few ways you can tackle the feeding aspect of a succubus, and even fewer that work for a sympathetic character.

[13] You got my intent on the nail there. Not much more for me to say.

[20] I had a lot of fun with this chapter when I wrote it. Really proud of this one.

[21] I intentionally avoided making anyone a succubus here because I felt I was over-using it a bit. Though I suppose a vampire isn't actually too different in it's mechanics.

I'd need a bit more to work with than just parent reactions to make a chapter… but a second chapter would be something I'm interested in. I'm very fond of this demi-human stuff.

[22] This is another chapter I'm very proud of. I wanted this sort of vibe for when I did Grima Robin in TRV, but alas I couldn't get the tone down for that one.

[25+31] Morgan being relied upon is a side-effect of how I chose to deal with Nathan, which is that I chose a much more realistic path of making Nathan absurdly unfit to exist in this world, and only scraping buy due to random auxiliary knowledge he's picked up over his life, game knowledge, and Morgan's goodwill. His dynamic with Morgan ended up better than I could hav ever hoped for though. I never expected it to work so well.

[26] Yeah, I know. This miniseries is… mediocre. I think the idea could work, but it's kinda like the Pokemon one in that it would need a dedicated story and a lot of work (not to mention an audience with a very high tolerance for OCs, which in my experience is unusual as most FE fans are only willing to tolerate self-inserts/avatar-replacements and not so much anything else).


	39. Second Generation Replacement 9

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **Just a bit further… uh... this is a slog to write now. I like my characters, but this type of story just doesn't work for them, and OCs have always been difficult to use in large numbers when it comes to fanfiction.**

 **Ah well. So be it. Let's get this done.**

* * *

"It took you long enough to get here." 'Marth' mutters as the two touch down. "Where did you two end up?"

"I was at the far north of Ferox." Ventiel says. With her long, bright red hair she looks startlingly similar to her grandmother. The pegasus she was riding helps the resemblance as well.

"I was at the Ylisse-Plegia border, northmost point." Seraph mutters. Tired blue eyes take stock of the group in front of her. She nods to her brother, Maesus. "Vent picked me up along the way."

"I see we are still missing many of our group." Ventiel murmurs. "Unfortunate."

Marth has to agree. Without Bello, they're down a tactician. Basit and Elise are their heavy-hitters, and both are nowhere to be found. Elise not being around hurts even more now that they no longer have Inanis to frontline for them. And without Velox they're missing their assassin and spy. Dhyey being missing is a bit more manageable, but he is their strongest one-on-one fighter so his loss isn't negligible.

"Still, with the assassination stopped we need to find a way to take down Aversa, not to mention Validar." Soner says quietly. "If we must do it without the others, so be it."

"Indeed." Ventiel nods. "I agree."

"What a shock." Marth snarks under his breath, too low for anyone to hear. "Ventiel agrees with Soner? Never..."

Soner makes a good point though. This war has to end before it takes too long. Ylisse doesn't have the manpower to fight Plegia, and while Ferox certainly does those men come from all over a huge area and take time to mustur. Plegia is going after _Ylisse_ , and if things go poorly then Ylisse will be ruined by the time Ferox can properly stop Plegia. They have to act now, with or without their parent's aid.

"Well, this is quite a meeting! I'm sad I wasn't invited." Aesir chirps as he steps out of the castle. Annabeth is by his side, and waves at them. "And going off without telling _me_ , the Exalt? Wow, must be urgent."

"That's not what we were saying." Marth snaps. "We were just discussing-"

"I know, I know." Aesir laughs. "I was just going to tell you that you may want to meet with the Shepherds if you are so determined to be going into Plegia. They're currently at Fort Striker, just around the south side of the Fey Jungle. I had planned to ask them to make an attack at some point anyhow, and with your backup that will certainly go better."

He pulls out a document and hands it to Marth. The boy pulls it open and reads it, only to end up confused. "This is…?"

"A timeline of Ylisse's attack plan." Aesir hums. "Do burn it before you leave Fort Striker, that's valuable information, but you may want to use our upcoming assault as a distraction to get deeper into Plegia, so make sure to show it to Lucina when you meet up with her."

"Right. I'll show it to… Lucina." It feels odd to him not to say "Mother", but he can't let that information get out just yet.

"Good! I hope everything on there is accurate, because I can't read it!" Aesir remarks cheerfully. "I'll see you later then! Or, well, _hear_ you later. Don't forget to take Yarne with you!"

All of them watch Aesir and Annabeth walk off. Aliud watches them particularly sharply, staring at the backs of his parents as they move away. He just got to see them again, and he has to leave. He didn't even get to talk to them.

Sighing, the Prince of Ylisse turns back to the others. If this is to be his duty, and it takes him away from Ylisstol, so be it.

That doesn't mean he's happy about it though.

###

Running into a familiar face on the way to Fort Striker is unexpected, but welcome, especially since it solves their issue of not having a frontline.

That said, Elise looks like she's seen better days. She's dirty, tired, and her armor has clearly been in the desert. Despite her best efforts there's still visible sand tucked into the crevices of her dull red plate armor.

She greets them with a smile, but that smile falls when she sees that Noam isn't with them. "I guess you didn't run into him, huh?"

"Unfortunately not." Soner murmurs. "Nor have we gotten word from him. If it is any consolation, we have not heard from a number of our companions, so there is no need to worry about Noam especially."

Elise is not happy with that. "He's my responsibility, I'm his employer. I _have_ to be worried. Besides, his prosthetics make travelling on his own more difficult."

"And by 'I'm his employer, he's my responsibility', you mean because of your extremely unsubtle crush, right?" Marth sneers. "Well, we have more important things to worry about than your _servant_. We're taking out Aversa, come on."

Elise's eyes narrow. Before an argument can begin however, Soner steps between them.

"Sami, be polite." The older boy scolds. To Elise he says. "As impolitely as it was said, we are indeed going after Aversa, and your strength would be useful. As much as you may want to find Noam, ending the war through Aversa will ensure his safety just as much as locating him."

Elise's fist clenches. She takes a deep breath, then lets it out and relaxes her hand. "I don't like it, but fine, I'll come along." Her eyes narrow at Sami. "As long as _you_ can keep yourself in line."

"In line? I'm the leader." Sami scoffs.

"Oh please, we both know Bello would be in charge if she were here." Elise scoffs. "And there's a reason Soner is her second-in-command, not you."

"Because they're cousins? Yeah, but Bello isn't here right now." Sami sneers.

Elise gives him a withering look and says to Soner. "Why are you letting him lead?"

"He's never suggested something that's gone against what the rest of us would have done anyhow, so he was not so much leading as voicing our collective thoughts." Soner says simply.

"So he's not in charge?"

"Not if we don't want him to be."

"Hey!" Sami protests.

"That's fine with me." Maesus grunts.

"No complaints." Aliud nods.

Sami glowers as his limited authority is overthrown. He makes one little comment and everyone turns against him? That's stupid. Everyone here is stupid.

"You wouldn't like leading anyhow." Seraph murmurs beside him. "Too many difficult decisions, too much dealing with minor problems. I'd be a pain."

"Still…"

"People are annoying. Trust me. It's better like this." Seraph says.

"You say that, but you just don't like people."

"And you get jealous at the smallest things, so you're not that much different." The dark mage says bluntly. "You sniped at Elise just because you were annoyed that she's in love."

"Did not."

Seraph's expression is flat, completely unconvinced. "Sami, I'm the last person you're going to be fooling."

Sami snarls, but doesn't say anything. Seraph is right of course. She pats him on the back, totally unphased by his bad attitude.

Unsurprisingly, Soner is elected the temporary leader due to him having some tactical knowledge and being less of an overall ass than Sami.

###

Sitting at a fort for nearly a week is maddening. At least when on the march you have the trip to keep you occupied, but being in the same place all the time eliminates that from the situation. Training, patrols, and hobbies can only keep one occupied for so long. It's worse for some than for others. Severa is faring the worst, but Cynthia and Owain are also going a bit stir-crazy.

It's a relief when the mysterious masked Marth and his companions come marching up to the fort, though Lucina can't help but notice he doesn't seem to be in charge of the little group. That's secondary to the plan the group suggests though.

"A strike on Aversa?" Lucina muses. "I can see the merit of such a move, and I suppose if Aesir has given us permission then we have no reason not to join you in your attack. Truthfully not much has occurred thus far after the initial capture of the fort."

"Then what are we waiting for? I want to get out of this stupid fort." Severa grumbles. "We've been doing nothing for _days_. Let's move already!"

"Don't be impatient Severa." Lucina scolds. "We need to discuss strategy first."

"Ugh!" The girl complains loudly. She stalks away from the group, irritated.

"Please pardon Severa. She likes to let her thoughts be known." Lucina says apologetically. "Let's go inside and talk."

Lucina insists on carefully scrutinizing every letter of the timeline Aesir sent with them and memorizing the whole thing before they burn it. She, Morgan, Marc, and Soner have a lengthy discussion about exactly what day they need to get where, and if they should wait to do this and that, which is various degrees of infuriating and maddening for everyone else.

Then again, everyone else doesn't understand the importance of good strategy and tactics like the four individuals in the tactics room. It's not as simple as avoiding major enemy formations. You need to approach cities from the right direction to make believable your cover stories, you need good cover stories for such a large and well-armed group to begin with, you need to know what to hide, what not to say and what you should say, and so many more details.

It takes so long, in fact, that they don't end up leaving that day at all. The four spend hours in discussion, making and revising plans and trying to account for every variable. They know there will inevitably be something they missed, but it is better to over-prepare than under-prepare.

It's early the next day when they all set out, and burn the timeline Aesir sent with Marth's group.

* * *

 **Cool, that works. You can see the end coming soon now.**

* * *

 **Half-beastdragonsoul2013** **:** They _are_ fun, though I wouldn't quite call them crazy. Bored maybe, with Nathan perhaps being on the edge of a breakdown, but Morgan at least is sane.

Though I suppose no one else knows that. To them, yes, Noire will be the only sane woman.

 **Guardian54** **:** That is true, though the chance that Nathan will actually think of that is rather low.

 **Bionic608 :** Yeah, probably. I've never played that game actually.


	40. Replicate Morgan

**Disclaimer** **: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.**

 **What am I gonna do this chapter? Do I finish Second Generation Replacement? No, I really don't want to do that two times in a row. I'll do that next chapter. So what instead? I haven't been doing requests (minor requests at least) for a while now, so I should probably do that.**

 **I guess I'll do a suggestion by Walrus. Replicate Morgan. Perhaps I can do the replicate idea justice this time around rather than it functioning more as window dressing.**

* * *

Lissa is excited for today. It's a shopping day! It's been too long since she's had a shopping day. The end of the war and the fall of Grima understandably has resulted in a long period of rebuilding and healing. The heart of Plegia, the capital city, is completely devoid of life. The once bustling metropolis and culturally-diverse city is a ghost town; it's inhabitants having been eaten by Grima when they were summoned. Ylisse stepped in to help (much to the vocal annoyance of Ylisse's citizens, not to mention Plegia's. Neither wants anything to do with the other no matter how much one side may need the help), and so most of Lissa's life for the last four months has been steeped in foreign diplomatic meetings as well as meetings with Ylisse's elite to try and convince them to support helping Plegia's reconstruction.

Today is the first time in a while she's gotten a free day.

Lissa wakes up early. As early as her husband in fact, which is not something that normally happens. She takes her time doing her hair and choosing a comfortable dress. Lon'qu is gone well before she's even a quarter way done, off to do his morning training routine. He won't be joining her on her shopping day. He's willing to join her for many things that he may not enjoy, like the occasional opera (he much prefers plays) but a full day of shopping is _not_ something he's going to willingly deal with.

That's fine. It's the same way Lissa won't willingly deal with Lon'qu's full-day training marathons he sometimes does to "hone his mastery of the blade" or whatever. To each their own.

The first thing Lissa sees when she leaves her room is Morgan. That in itself is not usual. It's the same way one could reasonably expect to find Robin anywhere at any given time. Replicate is one heck of an ability.

"Hi Morgan." Lissa calls out as the boy rushes past her. He's carrying something. A pair of practice blades by the look of it.

"Hi Aunt Lissa, can't chat, gotta…" His voice fades off to be too quiet to be heard as he turns a corner and the wall muffles the rest of his sentence. Lissa shakes her head. Always in a rush that boy. He can rival Owain and Cynthia's energy sometimes.

She actually runs into him _again_ when leaving the castle. Not the same version of him of course. This one is carrying a tray of food and is heading towards the royal wing of the castle, where she just came from.

"Hi again Aunt Lissa!" Morgan chirps. "Sorry the other me had to rush by you earlier. I had to get those practice blades to Owain and Cynthia."

"Another Justice Cabal meeting?"

"Yeah. Today I'm playing the part of the _Dread Pirate_ _Knifebeard_!"

"Knifebeard? That's a new one." Lissa smirks. It's also the most ridiculous name yet. The kids really do have a gift for absurd titles. "And what's with the food?"

"Oh, this is for Mom." He says. "She's going to be really busy today drafing reconstruction plans for the Plegian Royal Palace, as well as making a proposal that Plegia should be turned into some form of democracy. You know how it is. The Plegian people aren't exactly _whelmed_ about theocracy at the moment."

Lissa did not know that. She hadn't considered the ramifications Grima would have on Plegia's political structure. She knew there would be changes of course, but she didn't think it through herself. "That sounds like a handful."

"It is." Morgan nods. "Mom has been spending days on the problem, and devoting all her clones to the issue. It's a lot of effort."

Robin usually likes to spread her clones out to tackle multiple problems, and everyone is aware of it. More than anything, knowing that she's devoting multiple clones to a single problem tells Lissa just how much work it actually is.

"Well don't let me get in the way then. I'll see you later Morgan."

"Bye Aunt Lissa!" The boy walks off, balancing the large tray as he goes.

Lissa moves off into town, finding a restaurant she likes for breakfast. She has to remind herself that she's in public and to not just shove her face full of the delicious food and actually act her station for a bit. People are watching after all; she is technically a princess.

She is thankful though that Frederick didn't insist on a guard accompanying her into town this time. She proved herself as a war cleric during the war, proved that she could fight, so he finally started giving her a bit of leeway when it comes to his usual overprotectiveness when the war ended.

When Lissa leaves the restaurant, she sees a familiar face… again. He's walking into town with a large backpack, though it seems empty at the moment.

"Morgan?"

"Oh, hi again Aunt Lissa!" Morgan chirps. "Did you enjoy breakfast?"

"Yes, I did. Why are you out here?"

"Oh, well Severa needed a few things, so she asked me to go get them." Morgan says cheerfully.

"Why the huge backpack?"

"Well those 'few things' include a new steel sword, picking up her armor which should be finished being repaired today, picking up an order she put for a new outfit, and a few other minor things."

"And she couldn't do this herself?"

"She said she was busy." Morgan says. "But her orders were in today, so she needed someone to come get them."

It sounds to Lissa like Severa is just being lazy, but Morgan has always loved helping people so she doesn't say anything. "Be careful of the weight then, especially if you're carrying her armor on your back."

"I will!" He chirps. "I gotta go though. See you later Aunt Lissa! Again!"

"Bye Morgan. Again..." She murmurs as the boy jogs off. That's three different versions of him she's seen going on three different tasks by only the end of breakfast. What a busy boy.

Then again, _everyone_ who was a part of the Shepherds is busy, the children included. Even the less involved Shepherds like Noire tend to be involved in rebuilding efforts or politics somewhere. Usually they're not involved in getting other people's shopping lists, but… whatever. Morgan has the clones to spare Lissa supposes. He has more than her mother, who can manage six with a bit of strain but usually sits at four. Morgan can manage ten and usually sits at six. Robin likes to keep her clones mostly together, at least within the same general area, but Morgan doesn't mind sending his all over the place at the same time.

Robin mostly attributes it to how the two of them were probably raised. She doubts her own mother knew how to deal with a child that could clone themselves, whereas Robin is certain she would have encouraged Morgan to develop his abilities hence (probably) why he is more skilled in his usage of the ability than she is. That's the theory anyways. With their amnesia they don't really have a way of knowing.

Lissa shakes her head. She's supposed to _not_ be thinking about work today. She's shopping!

"Right, time to go browse some jewelry." She instructs herself. She walks her way over to the market. As she goes she's stopped and chattered at by a large number of civilians, and she struggles to keep the conversations short. She doesn't mind talking per say, but if she lets herself get caught up in too many conversations she'll never actually get to shopping.

She gets to the market, only to find…

"...Morgan?" She says weakly. This has to stop happening. Just how many of him is she going to run into today?

"Oh, hi again Aunt Lissa!" The boy greets cheerfully. He's just receiving a small necklace from one of the merchants. "Come to look at some new jewelry? They've got some cool stuff here!"

Lissa was hoping to find something more 'cute' or 'graceful' than 'cool', but Morgan has a very loose definition of 'cool' thankfully. "Why are you buying a necklace?" She squints in suspicion. "Did you get a girlfriend and didn't tell me…?"

"Nope!" The boy chirps. "At least, I don't think so."

"You don't _think_ so?"

"Mom says I'm dense, apparently." Morgan admits. "Like Dad."

Well, if there's anyone who wouldn't realize they're in a relationship it's her brother. If Morgan takes after him, then she can believe it. "So what's with the necklace then?"

"Oh, this is for Mom." Morgan says. "Dad asked me to come pick it up! Don't tell Mom!"

"Right, I won't." That's four separate tasks Morgan has now, all at around the same time. "You're busy today, huh?"

"Am I? This is pretty normal." Morgan says. "Maybe I'm busy all the time then."

"I'm starting to think so." Lissa mutters. None of these tasks are his own either. They're all things other people have asked him to do. "Say, Morgan…"

"Yeah?"

"Do you have any other tasks today?" She asks cautiously.

"Yep. One of me is also grabbing some medical and food supplies for Brady and Noire. They're going on a long trip in Plegia soon with Tharja. The last me is placing some orders for Commander Frederick. Armor, blades, horse feed, that sort of stuff."

"And you're doing all of this stuff _now_?"

"Yep. I have to be quick, I have more to do in the afternoon."

Lissa frowns slightly. It sounds to her like everyone is taking advantage of Morgan's kindness. "I see…"

"Well, I gotta go again Aunt Lissa. I'll see you later, again!"

"Bye." Lissa says with a bit of a dark tone to her voice. She's going to have a _talk_ with several people when she gets back to the castle. But… it can wait until tomorrow. This is supposed to be a day of relaxation for her. " _I should probably talk with Morgan too when I see him next. He has to learn how to say 'no'._ "

It's almost disappointing how she's resigned herself to seeing him again today. She'll probably run into one of his other two clones before lunch considering how frequently she's encountered them so far.

To her surprise, she doesn't encounter Morgan again for the rest of the day. She also manages to enjoy her day out despite her general irritation earlier. Shopping is a great cure for negative emotions, at least for her. Her husband wouldn't agree, but Lon'qu's idea of stress relief is murdering bandits or hacking apart straw dummies. She has a nice time browsing jewelry and clothes, checking what upcoming plays are coming out, and eating at another restaurant for lunch.

In the end she doesn't buy much of anything: a new dress or two, a pair of earrings, and a nice vest for Lon'qu (Naga knows he'd wear his old tattered vest forever if she let him, that man cares nothing for dressing his station). As much as she likes shopping, it's more the experience of looking and admiring the things more than rampant money-spending. She's not Severa.

She seeks out Morgan after dinner. She planned on leaving this conversation until the next day, but with some extra time she figured she might as well talk to him.

"Morgan!" She finds the boy (one of him anyways) in his room.

"Oh, hi Aunt Lissa!" He says. Lissa has heard that a lot today. "How was your shopping day?"

"It was good." She says. "But I need to talk with you."

"Do you need a favor?" He asks instantly.

"No!" Lissa says, maybe a bit too loudly. "No, but I do want to talk to you about those favors you do."

"Oh, uh… am I not doing enough?"

Lissa purses her lips. "No, that's not the problem. The opposite in fact. Morgan, you're letting people take advantage of you."

"I am?" He blinks. "I'm just doing favors Aunt Lissa."

"Yes, and you're doing them all day every day." She says. Lissa is aware her voice has shifted to a scolding tone, which she supposes is appropriate. "And you don't even ask anything in return, do you?"

"Of course not, they're _favors_." Morgan stresses.

"Favors which people ask of you, right?"

"Yes."

"Almost every day, right?"

"Yes…" Morgan says, clearly not understanding where Lissa is going with this.

"And people _know_ you always do favors, right?"

"Yes…?"

"So the reason they always ask you is because they know you won't refuse! They're taking advantage of you!" Lissa scolds. "And don't tell me that they're important. Doing people's shopping for them is _not_ important. They could ask servants to do that if they really needed someone to do it for them. Unless you have literally nothing else you need to be doing, there's no reason for you to be doing everyone else's _chores_ for them."

"But-" Morgan goes to protest, but he stops when she glares at him.

"Look, I'm not saying you can't do favors _ever_ , and certainly you can do favors for your parents, but you gotta have some time to do more important things, or even just have time for yourself." Lissa says. "Got it."

"Okay…" He mumbles reluctantly.

Lissa sighs. "Just... look, I'm not your mother, you can ask her about this if you feel like it, I just don't want you wasting all of your time on other people's problems just because you're too nice."

Morgan nods silently. Lissa gives another sigh of relief, then ruffles his hair.

"You're a nice kid, that's a good thing, just don't let it become a weakness, alright?" She murmurs.

As she leaves a minute later, another thought crosses her mind.

"' _You're a nice kid'? Gods, I sound so_ _old_ …" She grimaces. " _I'm too young to have a teenage nephew._ "

Lissa consoles herself by stealing a cookie from the kitchen.

* * *

 **Morgan is fun, even if he's not the POV character.**


End file.
